The Times
by AMiserableLove
Summary: Prequel to Mine...a story I had written for CS Sexy Times Week (not required). This fic is about the first three times mentioned in that fic that Emma and Hook sleep together. Posted on tumblr as well.
1. Chapter 1

_**"The first time it had happened had been shortly after their return from Neverland—she had showed up on his ship feeling slightly lost and a little desperate and had begged him to take her. The first time had been hard and fast and frantic. Thinking about it, even now, her body trembled and her pulse picked up in pace, the hot images of him pressing her into the bed and driving himself into her, flashing before her eyes. She had left him almost immediately after, telling him it had been a one-time thing. Even then she had known she was speaking a blatant lie."**_

_**~Mine**_

* * *

**The First Time  
**

Emma stared up at the grand ship—it stood tall, proud, majestic. Being so near to it again, she couldn't help but think of Neverland—the pain, the beauty, the terror and ultimately…_the hope._

They had gotten back less than a week ago and since then she had been restless—she felt drained, bare and vacant. The shock and awe of their trip was slowly starting to wear off and where she knew she should feel ecstatic and happy to finally have her family all safely back with her in Storybrooke—she felt lost_._

For days she had wandered around in a slightly foggy haze, pasting an all too fake smile on her face and saying words she knew her family and friends needed to hear…

_I'm fine._

_I'm happy._

_We're safe._

_I love you too._

_I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine._

She repeated the phrases like a mantra, hiding the emptiness that had settled itself within her.

Thinking about it, she wasn't sure why she felt the way she did—she had attempted to ease her worries, reminding herself that Neverland had taken its toll on her, draining her both mentally and physically—feeling out of sorts was to be expected. Still, even with those assurances circling comfortingly in her head, the need for something to take away the emptiness, to make her feel something, _anything, _had continued to grow_._ And with the desire to fill the all-consuming void resonating throughout her, urging her into motion, she had found herself walking blindly—wandering around town, until eventually she had ended up at the docks, standing in front of the Jolly Roger, staring hard at the large vessel and considering what awaited her below it's sun soaked decks.

_Him._

_Hook._

Taking in a deep breath she pushed herself forward, tentatively boarding the eerily quiet ship with soft hesitant steps. The moment her heeled boot made contact with the smooth wood, something odd rushed through her veins—a jolting spark shot down her body, followed by a slow and soothing wave of calmness…_acceptance._ And taking note of her body's odd reaction—the terrifying and thrilling feeling of coming _home, _Emma swallowed over the sudden tightness in her throat while continuing to move forward, the clink of her feet padding across the ship's planks sounding like thunder, the silence that surrounded her was so deafening. Quickly walking in the direction of the cabins she tried to ignore the panicked voice in her head that was questioning her motives—_what was she doing, why was she there, what were her intentions_—and instead continued to move on, intent on making it to her destination before chickening out.

Of what she'd be backing out of, she was still uncertain.

Making her way through the ship, the smell and sights oddly familiar and welcoming, she came to a stop in front of his cabin. And seeing that the door was slightly ajar, Emma paused for a moment, staring at it curiously as she strained her ears, listening for any sound of movement on the other side. Holding her breath she waited a heartbeat or two and hearing nothing debated on turning around and going back, a large part of her still demanding answers, still unsure what she was doing on his ship in the first place. Suddenly uncomfortable, she shuffled from foot to foot and weighing her options, drew her lower lip into her mouth biting on it lightly as she attempted to sort out her frenzied thoughts.

Something had driven her forward taking her _here._

Something had compelled her to come to _him._

There had to be a_ reason_ for it.

Giving herself a moment, she closed her eyes and placed her palm on the door, running her fingers down the wood lightly before, with a deep breath and a slight nod, she pushed it all the way open, her eyes widening fractionally when she saw that his cabin was empty—Hook nowhere to be seen. Briefly she debated leaving, for a second she considered his absence—perhaps it was giving her an out, preventing her from doing or saying anything rash, allowing her to leave before he found her.

But tired of taking the overly cautious route, too indifferent to really care, she walked into the room, the smell of rich leather, dark rum, and something spicy and uniquely him hitting her senses hard. Scanning the small area before her, she let her eyes roam over every inch of it while slowly making her way towards his desk, running idle fingers across the polished mahogany as she stopped in front of it. And glancing at the scattered maps that lay strewn across its surface, she couldn't help but remember the last time she'd stood in his cabin, standing over his desk, with her temper flaring and her doubts mounting.

"_This map is useless," she muttered, her tone laced with both desperation and annoyance. _

_Throwing the worn and yellowed paper on the desk, she turned to him, scowling as he merely raised a sharp brow at her, his eyes briefly flitting over to the map she had so carelessly tossed aside._

"_Yes, well, I suppose an enchanted map is useless to one who doesn't know how to properly read it." He mused, his voice holding a hint of humor and slight reproach._

_Narrowing her eyes at him, she scowled and placing her hands on her hips, attempted to keep her balance as her vision wavered before her and her head spun somewhat dizzyingly. She was tired. She hadn't slept in days and had barely eaten anything of substance since they had left for Neverland—her worry for Henry consuming her entirely. _

"_We should be out there looking for him! Not sitting on your ship pouring over maps that make no sense."_

_Leaning against the wall, he gave her a pointed look, his expression somewhat patronizing. "I suppose you are forgetting about the storm that rages on outside."_

"_A little rain shouldn't be stopping me from finding my son!"_

"_Aye a little rain perhaps, but this is a Neverland storm, sweetheart. They don't happen often, but when they do you'd be wise to stay out of its wrath. If we venture out now, we'd only be putting ourselves in danger, shattering any hope we have at recovering your son."_

_Almost as if on cue the wind began to howl loudly, the rain battered against the ship in harsh and punishing sheets, and the rumble and roar of angry thunder crashing and growling above them had the wooden planks beneath her feet trembling lightly with the vibrating sound. Shoulders dropping in defeat, Emma shook her head, her thoughts immediately drifting to Henry as another clap of thunder shook the Jolly Roger. And almost as if sensing the dark turn in her mind, she saw Hook straighten his stance, his eyes softening considerably, his mouth dipping into a slight frown._

"_He's with the lost boys darling…they know how to handle a burden like this. They're fine."_

"_You don't know that." She whispered, her tone low and trembling._

_Raising a brow, he merely gave her a crooked smile before pushing away from the wall and heading towards the door. Stopping in front of it, she watched as he waited for a moment or two before turning back around to face her, leveling her with his bright blue stare. "Actually love, I do. They would have sensed the impending storm long before it hit. They're safely tucked away somewhere snug and warm by now." Running his eyes up and down her slumped figure he made a tisking noise, "Now…you haven't had a bit of rest since you boarded my ship. So I'll be leaving you. Don't step foot outside this room until I come get you. Sleep."_

_She arched an eyebrow at his simple request, "I'm not tired." _

_It was a lie, but she hated anyone, especially him, telling her what to do._

"_That's a boldfaced lie Swan and we both know it, go to sleep or so help me I'll tie you to my blasted bed with those sodding cuffs you seem to hold so dear to you."_

_Her cheeks heated at his words, the lingering implications hanging in the air between them. And feeling her body tense and her spine going straight, she leveled him with an even glare. "And just who the hell do you think you are?"_

_The smile he gave her was cool, calculating, and unflinching. "Princess haven't I ever told you how things work on my ship?"_

_Irritated by his newest nickname for her, she merely cocked her head to the side with a scowl, and crossing her arms over her chest, shot him a humorless smile, waiting for him to continue. _

"_It's quite simple really. I make the demands. You follow them." _

_His smug smirk was infuriating and feeling slightly enraged by his casually said words, Emma opened her mouth to say something, but he raised his good hand, stopping her with one simple and piercing look._

"_No don't fight me love…please do us both a favor and get into bed, you and I both know you need your rest before we continue our search, it'll do you no good to argue…it'll do Henry no good for you to argue."_

_At the mention of her son, she felt the blood drain from her face as a shiver rippled through her body, and apparently seeing he had struck a nerve, he nodded at her once before turning on his heel and opening the cabin door—his simple movements somehow managing to be both over exaggerated and smooth all at once._

"_And Emma…" he shot her a look over his shoulder and flashed her a smile that was both incredibly wicked and undoubtedly seductive, " the next time I have you in my cabin, in my bed…it won't be for sleep. Although I can assure you, you'll be quite blissfully exhausted when I'm through with you…make no mistake about that."_

_Somewhat shocked by the blatant words, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, even while the blood that flowed through her traitorous body went hot with something that very closely resembled need and desire._

_And seemingly satisfied by her stunned expression, he allowed his gaze to linger up and down her body for a moment longer, before shooting her an maddening wink, and leaving her speechless—anger and the stirrings of something too terrifying to admit to heating her from the inside out. _

_Too tired to chase after him with a sharp retort, too weary to blatantly defy his poorly worded demand, she huffed a sigh and shuffled over to the bed almost without thought. Damn him, he was right anyway—she needed sleep, it wouldn't do Henry any good to have her wandering around Neverland like the walking dead._

_So it was with another reluctant sigh that she found herself tentatively sitting on the edge of the mattress and lowering her head to the soft welcoming pillow—her eyes drooping almost immediately, her breathing evening out within seconds. _

_And trying to block out her concern and fears, attempting to forget that she was in Neverland, pretending that she was anywhere but in his bed, she let exhaustion overtake her—the sway of the ship, the sound of the storm, and the lingering scent of him luring her into a much-needed sleep…_

"Well, well, well do my eyes deceive me Swan or have you finally come to your senses?"

Her thoughts scattering, Emma turned around on a gasp, eyes widening as her gaze sought and quickly found him. He was casually leaning outside the doorway, his arms crossed in front of him, his blue eyes staring her up and down. At his sudden appearance, surprise, alarm, annoyance, and excitement all slowly bubbled up inside of her, taking her by surprise. And with a dim sense of awe she realized that seeing him, being in his presence for mere seconds, had brought on more emotions and feelings than anything else since returning from Neverland.

Turning the revelation over in her mind, silently she stared at him, her head tilting to the side as her eyes drank in the sight of him, roaming over his dark somewhat dangerous features. Typical Hook, he radiated a smug confidence, the commanding aura irritating her while also lighting something inside of her—a warm feeling coming to life deep in her belly and slowly spreading throughout her body.

Pushing away from the door, he flashed her a roguish smile and as he idly walked towards her, he fiddled with the tip of his hook, seemingly unconcerned by her silence. "I figured it'd only be a matter of time before you came to me darling, although I confess I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight. You do know how I love a challenge." There was a teasing light in his eyes, the tiny smirk that dusted his lips softening his features.

Emma wanted to scowl at him, to scoff at the ridiculousness of his implications while rolling her eyes to the ceiling and muttering a curse. She wanted to deny that the reason she was in his cabin had anything to do with him—stubbornly stating she had simply found herself there by mistake. But instead of spouting off the absurd claims, a soothing feeling washed over her chasing the urge away, his presence putting her on edge while simultaneously comforting her. And for reasons unbeknownst to her, abruptly she began to tremble, her body tingling slightly, her head suddenly dizzy

"Hook." She whispered softly, her hushed tone stopping him in his tracks, the light in his eyes faded and something that closely resembled concern replaced it fast.

"Emma, what is it?"

The way he said her name, his lilting voice wrapping around the syllables gently, drawing it out and caressing it softly, had a shudder rippling through her. And closing her eyes, she once again questioned what she was doing on his ship, in his cabin, standing before him—the feeling of frantic and frightening desperation coursing through her jarringly.

And just as quickly as the question came, the answer swiftly followed.

She wanted to _feel._

She_ needed_ to feel.

"Hook." She said his name again, and stepping forward, she opened her eyes on a shaky breath.

He peered at her curiously, his sea colored gaze narrowing slightly, his features tightening into a wary expression.

But before he could question her, she picked up her pace, moving fast and closing the distance between them quickly. "I need to feel something." She whispered, stopping in front of him. The heat of his body, the scent of warm leather and strong rum hung in the air, all gently wrapped together with the hint of salt and sea.

"What the devil are—"

Unwilling to give him the chance to finish, she raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him hard—shock, lust, awe, desire, need—all shooting through her swiftly, the surprise from it causing her to let out a startled little gasp. Almost immediately he tensed with the action, his body going rigid even as his lips moved freely over hers, greedily accepting her kiss. And needing to feel more, desperate for it, she lifted her hands and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her, paying no mind to the voice in her head that was screaming at her, questioning her actions and demanding answers.

But her brain still foggy, confused, and out of sorts, ignored it.

After only a moment's hesitation, his arms wrapped around her waist, resting low on her hips. With a quick jerk he pulled her even closer to him, slamming her body into his and causing a low whimper to escape her lips. And as the tiny noise left her mouth he thrust his tongue inside, immediately dueling with hers for dominance as they both tasted and clung to each other with frantic and poorly concealed need.

"Gods, Emma, " he whispered, his breath feathering hotly across her lips as he pulled his head back and stared down at her, his eyes a burning and nearly frightening blue. "What are you after?" he questioned softly in his velvet voice, their arms still wrapped around each other, their bodies intimately pressed together.

Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the hot blush that was slowly creeping its way up her neck, and swallowing thickly, she bit her lip, noting how his eyes drifted to her mouth with the action. "I just need to feel something."

He stared at her hard, seemingly considering her answer carefully, "What are you talking about lass?"

"Make me feel something."

"Emma—"

"Please." She loathed the fact that she was begging him, she hated him for making her.

He arched a brow at her, confusion flitting across his features. "What are you asking of me?"

"You're seriously going to make me spell it out for you?"

"I'm merely asking—"

"Fuck me. Just…_God…_that's all you ever talk about so just do it. Fuck me."

It was a harsh and crass request—the crudely said words hung in the air, surprising them both. And as they echoed softly in her head, both taunting and embarrassing her, she struggled not to break eye contact—instead she stared him down, silently challenging him to back away from her blunt demand.

"Is that what you want?" his hypnotizing voice was low, barely above a hushed whisper.

"Yes." She said, her heart leaping wildly with the word, her body trembling slightly.

He didn't say anything for a moment—his mouth turned down into a slight frown as his stormy eyes searched hers curiously. And ever defiant, she lifted her chin, raising a brow and refusing to back down.

"Very well darling."

And before she could say anything else, before she could second-guess herself, he was kissing her again. Only this time it was ruthless and almost punishing—his lips brutally claimed hers, his fingers dug into her hip, his hook pressed hotly against her back. Moaning into his mouth, she reveled in the feeling of being held by him, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the thrill and excitement of the harsh kiss. But all too soon he pulled back again, and the whimper of protest that tumbled from her had a somewhat cruel smirk lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Remove your clothes Emma."

Her eyes shot to his in surprise as he slowly unwrapped his arms from around her waist and gently pushed her away from him, the look on his face both expectant and slightly impatient. And refusing to allow her nerves to get the best of her, she held his stare—mentally demanding she show no weakness. Squaring her shoulders, she kicked off her boots, watching as he drew his sword, and placed it on the ground next to him. With shaky fingers, she lifted the hem of her sweater and whipped it over her head, noting as he undid the buttons of his shirt without looking away from her—his good hand steady and sure. Frantically she pulled her jeans down, her heart pounding so hard she could feel the beats in her throat. And when she stood before him, clad only in her bra and underwear, her body began to tremble almost uncontrollably as something dark and somewhat sinister flashed in his eyes.

"Now get on the bed." his tone was rough, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

Feeling a bit of her backbone come back to her, she cocked her head to the side and raised a brow, shooting him an unamused look. "Seriously?"

He matched her incredulous glare with one of his own, his eyes never wavering from her face. "Well you asked me to…_fuck you_…isn't that right?" He paused; giving his words a chance to hang in the air—her challenging stance faltered slightly, her cool gaze avoided his. "Truth be told sweetheart, I'm quite well practiced in the many ways of lovemaking, so I suppose if you wanted to we could stay standing, I just thought perhaps…"

"Shut-up." She muttered, her cheeks going hot as she cut him off.

And refusing to let him get under her skin, she turned from him and stomped over to the bed, unhooking her bra as she walked away. With a tiny smirk she threw the lingerie over her shoulder, a thrill of satisfaction rushing through her when she heard his sudden and sharp intake of breath behind her. Glancing over at him, she stumbled a bit when she saw he had rid himself of his pants and was staring at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. And facing him, the back of her legs brushed the bed, and her hands clenched involuntarily as he stalked over to her, his eyes burning into hers—the passion and heat simmering there a forewarning of what was to come.

When he stopped in front of her, she opened her mouth to say something to lighten the mood, but he simply grabbed her, pulling her towards him and kissing her again—effectively clearing her mind of any and all coherent thoughts. Ravishing her mouth, his stubble scraped the sensitive skin across her jaw and his tongue warred with hers. She tried to keep up with him, attempting to give as good as she got, clinging to him tightly and kissing him with everything in her. But he was ruthless and unyielding, and even as she found herself gasping for breath, still desperate for more she clung to him, unwilling to pull away. Abruptly she felt him pushing her down, her world shifted and moved until suddenly the mattress was at her back and she was lying on the bed, looking up at him as he hovered over her. And again he didn't allow her a chance to say anything; instead he lowered his head, his mouth finding the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met.

As he scraped and soothed with lips, teeth, and tongue, she closed her eyes, fisting her hands in his hair, trying to block out the feeling of his bare skin heavily pressed against hers, afraid if she concentrated on it too much the sudden and roaring fire in her would burn even brighter causing her to combust into flames beneath him.

"Emma."

He whispered her name against her skin, the sound causing her eyes to flash open as her hips canted upwards in response, a gasp falling from her lips as her body pushed into his. She could feel him tense in her arms, a low growling sound hummed in his throat and his teeth nipped her skin, scratching her lightly and drawing a sigh from her. Closing her eyes once more, she moved her hips towards him again and the answering dark chuckle he gave her had butterflies stirring to life in her belly as tingles danced across her skin and a flush crept over her cheeks.

Then he began to move lower.

His lips trailed down her skin, his tongue darting out every so often and licking her, his teeth continuing to nip and bite at random. Shaking her head she attempted to pull him back up, needing him to stop toying with her, desperate for him to just do what she had asked him to do and get it over with—the aching need between her legs so great she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait.

But he had other plans.

Shifting his weight he slid a knee in between her thighs, his busy mouth continuing to trail down her body, stopping only briefly at her breasts to pay quick and special attention to them. When he ran his tongue over her nipple drawing the tip into his mouth she flinched, gasping as he drew it further in before scraping his teeth lightly over the sensitive bud causing her to curse under her breath while reaching for him again. It was too _intimate_…too much. She hadn't asked for this. But she felt his lips merely curve into a smile against her skin as she tried to tug him upwards and ignoring her, he moved onto the next, repeating the same torturous ministrations once more.

"Hook," she gasped his name, moaning as he released her from his mouth and lifted his head slightly, the cool air of the cabin causing her to shiver when it hit her wet skin. "Stop…just I need…you have to…" she trailed off, having trouble forming a proper sentence.

At her broken and faltering words, the smile he gave her was unapologetic and more than a little evil. And raising a brow, he dipped his head once more. "Not yet darling, I'm going to savor this. And while I mean to have you." He glanced back up at her again, his eyes flashing a fiery blue. "First I'm going to make you beg properly."

Her breath hitched in her throat at his words. She wasn't sure what more he could want from her. She'd thrown herself at him, demanding he take her—what else did she have to give?

Apparently she had more…_so, so much more._

His mouth slowly worked its way down her stomach, feathering light kisses across taut and quivering skin, and he hummed in appreciation as he got to the flimsy fabric of the underwear she still had on. "Red and black, Swan? A rather_ interesting_ choice." He murmured in a deeply amused voice, running a light finger over the rim, dipping it inside quickly and brushing the skin there before drawing it out again.

"Shut-up." She hissed and unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the embarrassment that was most likely clear as day on her face, she kept her head tilted up towards the ceiling, praying to God he would stop torturing her soon, needing him to give her what she so badly craved.

When she felt the cool steel tip of his hook latch into her underwear she flinched, gripping the blankets beneath her tightly while attempting to control her breathing. Unnerved, she kept her eyes focused on the ceiling, biting her lip as he dragged the lingerie down slowly, his hook running down her skin with the action, leaving in its wake a trail of rising goose bumps.

_She needed more._

And biting harder on her lip, drawing blood, she winced—savoring the pain, focusing on it so as not to beg, not to plead for him to give her what they both knew she wanted.

"Emma."

He whispered her name almost reverently and the sound of his hushed tone had her eyes drifting from their place above her, immediately seeking him out—he was watching her intently the intensity in his gaze nearly stealing her breath.

"Tell me you are sure."

Swallowing thickly, she took note of the whispered tones in the back of her head—some frantically pleading for her to grab her clothes and flee the ship while others urged her to take what she so desperately needed.

And continuing to meet his stare, refusing to look away, she nodded quickly. "I'm sure."

His expression gentled somewhat at her assurance even as his eyes darkened to a stormy and threatening blue, his good hand clenching tightly into a fist as the significance of what was about to occur hung heavily between them.

Still, they held each others stare—her gaze undoubtedly mirroring his—the hot challenge there only shadowed by the careful acceptance. And then, seemingly shaking himself from his brief daze, Hook flashed her a smile that could only be described as pure evil before moving fast and settling himself between her legs. With a little jump, she watched as he lowered his head to her, and before she could protest, a shuddering sigh escaped her as the feel of his tongue trailing up her inner thigh, moving ever closer to where she desperately needed him, took her by surprise.

When she had told him what she had wanted she had expected it hard, intense, and fast.

She hadn't expected him to take his time with her.

She hadn't expected _this._

Crying out as his mouth closed over her, licking and sucking and parting her, she frantically shook her head from side to side, unable to keep up with the sensations that were assaulting her—her body quivering and her mind reeling from his sensual attack.

"Please." She whimpered, her hands moving of their own accord, finding their way to his head again and fisting into his hair tightly as his tongue continued to move over her, sweeping gently across her sensitive nub—liquid heat pooling deep inside of her, pleasure rapidly rising from within her. And as he paid special attention to her, his tongue moving fast across where she ached for him most, he made a humming noise in the back of his throat, the sound sending soft vibrations across her heated and oversensitive skin.

"Oh God please." She whispered, her voice raspy and almost unrecognizable—she couldn't keep up with what he was doing to her, her body and mind seemingly shot to another place entirely.

At her obvious desperation she felt rather than saw him smile, and when he brought his fingers to her, she wasn't sure how much longer she could last before falling apart and shattering beneath him. When he lifted his head, her hands fell limply from him, without hesitation his eyes found hers, and unable to look away, she watched as he smirked at her—the expression both driving her crazy and fueling her desire.

"Hook—" she started but he never gave her the chance to finish, his fingers suddenly plunged into her, drawing a low moan from her as her thighs clenched and her hips lifted from the bed. "Ohhh God." She breathed, pleasure shooting through her body as he began to pump them in and out of her fast—his eyes still hot and burning held her stare.

And she was lost…completely gone.

She had never really stood a chance.

He was cruel and ruthless and knew exactly what he was doing—alternating between stroking her deeply with a curl of his fingers and thrusting them in and out of her fast, hitting her in just the right spot again and again. The ever-changing and dizzying pattern caused her toes to curl while the whimpers and moans that fell from her lips began to increase in their breathy volume—the sound of her cries echoing throughout the cabin, strangely erotic to her own ears. And as he continued to work her into a frenzy, pushing her ever closer to that tempting edge, she closed her eyes—a delicious pressure began building deep inside of her, her hips tilted towards his fingers as her body chased the release she craved.

"Yes," she murmured, she was so close, her body tensing, her skin practically humming with the impending orgasm. "Yes…don't stop. Oh. God. Don't—don't stop."

She was almost there, she could feel it—her body was shaking, her vision wavering, her heart racing—until, quite suddenly…he stopped.

"What the hell?" she gasped, her eyes fluttering open, her body protesting as he withdrew his fingers fast.

At her slightly outraged tone, Hook shot her a quick smile, before sliding his body over hers and bracing his arms on either side of her head—the change in position sending red warning flags dancing across her vision as his face hovered mere inches over hers, the new intimacy both terrifying and perfect. And as he settled over her, urging her legs even further apart with his knee, the heavy feeling of his length pressing against her entrance caused her breathing to become slightly erratic and her body to tremble in anticipation.

"I need to feel you Emma."

His lilting voice whispered the words softly and without giving her a chance to respond, he pushed forward once, thrusting into her deeply, his groan mingling with her shouted cry. She came immediately. After he had taken his time working her up with his fingers and tongue, she was unable to hold back any longer, clenching and unclenching tightly around him—her climax was sudden, powerful, and violent. Riding it out, she clung to him as he continued to take her—hard, fast, and intense—just like she had craved from him all along. His thrusts unrelenting, she practically sobbed into his neck, the intensity of her pleasure nearly overwhelming as she whispered incoherent words, her brain unable to work properly, her body completely his. Continuing to slam into her hard, he drew out her climax, his stunted groans merely feeding her lust, the fire in her veins only continuing to burn hotly for him with each muffled curse he swore.

Vaguely she wondered if it would ever be enough—_him, her, them_— she wanted, needed, craved more, demanding it with each tilt of her hips.

And as pleasure washed over her once more before fading to soft rippling waves, she came down from her high, her body feeling like liquid gold from the inside out. Slowing his pace, he pushed into her deeply again, stroking her gently, his length sliding into her bit by bit, a shudder wracking her body at the sudden change. Their chests heaving, their faces nearly touching, their bodies pressed so tightly together she wasn't sure where she started and he stopped, she looked up at him, her vision coming back into focus as her muddled brain began to think somewhat clearly again.

And they stared at each other for a moment—every raw, honest, and intense emotion she saw reflected in his gaze causing her eyes to burn with the threat of on-coming tears.

"Again." He said softly, and slowly he began to move once more, taking her deeply, unhurriedly, his strokes rekindling the hot fire within her. "I want to watch you come undone again. I want to see you yield to me again."

His words had her trembling and biting her lip, unable to look away she continued to meet his gaze. "Hook." She whispered in a hoarse voice as he hit her in a spot that had her toes curling, and she watched as an odd look flashed over his features—something that brimmed with slight pain dimmed his eyes.

"No." he said, his voice low and firm, an unreadable emotion hidden in his tone. "Killian, my name is Killian…say it Emma." It was a demand, not a request, and he pushed himself further into her with the words, a soft cry spilling from her lips before his mouth covered hers in a passionate and jarring kiss that once again caused her head to go hazy. Breaking away on a heaving breath, he rested his forehead against hers, and withdrew from her completely, his jaw clenching tightly when she cried out in protest. "Say it Emma."

Since she had stepped foot in his cabin, he had held the upper hand and while a small part of her was begging that she try to fight him, urging her to attempt to regain some semblance of control, another more seductive part was pushing her to do the opposite, whispering for her to just give in completely.

"Say it." He demanded through gritted teeth, his arms quivered next to her as he continued to brace himself over her.

And as he thrust into her hard, she arched her body off the bed, all thoughts of denying him anything fleeing her completely, "Killian." she moaned his name and it was almost as if with the word the floodgates opened and she was unable to stop. "Killian, Killian. Killian." She chanted it, saying it over and over again as he continued to take her— mercilessly pounding into her, his movements becoming even more frenzied with each broken whimper that fell from her lips.

"Let go Emma, come for me."

And with the request she broke—rearing up towards him, her arms clung to him tightly as her walls tensed around him—gripping and clenching him she came hard once again, a silent scream forming on her lips as he continued to drive into her relentlessly. And as their bodies came together, the heated sounds of their desperate lovemaking filling the room, finding her voice Emma continued to murmur his name softly. The sound of it falling from her lips lighting something deep within her as sensations bombarded her over and over again, leaving her dazed and breathless. Finally, just when she was beginning to fear she couldn't take it any longer, a ragged groan was torn from him and burying his face into her neck, he followed her, whispering her name and pulsing and shuddering above her—the hot feeling of him coming inside of her, drawing a soft appreciative cry as her body went limp beneath his.

Breathless, she laid there—spent and exhausted, she was unable to move. And as she attempted to steady her breathing, his body shook above her, his arms clearly struggling to keep himself braced over her. Slowly, surely, her cloudy brain began to clear once again—suddenly things began to drift back into focus. Lifting heavy lidded eyes to him, she watched as his gaze flitted over her before hotly meeting her stare. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she saw as the storm faded from his eyes and something gentle and almost affectionate crept into his gaze. Bracing himself on his forearm, he brought his good hand to her and cupping her face gently, his thumb softly ran over her cheek in a tender almost soothing touch.

Stubborn, she fought the urge to turn into his hand, her pulse racing frantically, both panic and fear suddenly edged their way into her mind as her heart warmed with something vaguely familiar and undeniably terrifying. "I—I have to go." She whispered, her voice coming out weak and shaky, her anxiety kicking up a notch.

_Coward_, something inside of her whispered, even as another part of her celebrated her good sense.

He didn't say anything at her hushed statement, only continued to stare at her, running his tongue over his bottom lip and drawing it into his mouth he watched her intently. And as he did she saw the beginnings of anger begin to light in his sea-like gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly and his jaw locking tightly. Watching the battle occur in the seemingly endless blue depths of his stare, her own anger began to rile up, making itself known in the way she tensed her body and raised a brow at him defiantly. And bracing her hands against his shoulders, she was about to push him off in a panicked rush when slowly something soft dawned on his features and a small sad smile dusted his lips.

"Of course love." He said with a wink, rolling off of her and breaking the intensely heavy moment.

Slightly dazed by his sudden change in behavior, she blushed furiously as he slid out of her and closing her eyes she reminded herself that she was an adult and not some awkward teenager who didn't know how to act after sleeping with a guy…

A pirate.

A three hundred year old pirate.

_From fucking fairytale land._

"Christ." She whispered, running a hand down her face on a quiet sigh.

At her muttered oath, she heard him chuckle faintly next to her, and it took everything in her not to sit up and glare at him while demanding to know what he found so funny. Bickering with him after what had just had happened seemed too domestic and intimate—and all she wanted at the moment was to get the hell out of his cabin as quickly as possible.

Everything was crashing down on her fast—the heavy weight of their actions settling around them stiflingly, the gravity of it nearly suffocating her.

Pushing herself up, abruptly she jumped out of the bed and unable to take his unnerving presence any longer, she began to gather her clothes, paying no mind to the way her skin heated and tingled, aware of his lingering stare. Tugging her underwear and jeans on she avoided his gaze, pulling her sweater over her head she ignored when he sat up, struggling with her boots she finally sighed and glanced over at him when he cleared his throat expectantly. And as her eyes made contact with his, she fought not to stumble back, denying the raging emotions that struggled to break through the now flimsy barrier she had put up around herself.

"Don't say anything." She said quickly, scowling when he merely cocked a dark brow and shot her a humored smile. "Just please don't say anything. It—it was a one time thing. Something we both needed to get out of our systems and—and it's over now. It's done…it's…" she paused, looking away from his eyes, which had suddenly gentled in a way that was too understanding and bordering on sympathetic. "It's done." She repeated lamely, her voice faltering noticeably as she made her way across the room on unsure and wobbly legs.

And as she stopped in front of the door, the long silent pause continuing to draw out between them, dimly the sound of water lapping up against the ship filtered its way to her ears while the welcoming and luring scent of the sea wrapped itself around her enticingly, almost as if urging her to turn around…

_To stay._

"Do you really believe that lass?" his calm voice broke through her brief reverie, the tone of frank disbelief more than a little alarming.

_No._

"Yes." She whispered and a small voice screamed _LIAR_! even while silently she congratulated herself for her strength and conviction—only vaguely she acknowledged the part of her that simultaneously questioned her weakness.

"Emma look at me."

She shook her head, her heart racing, her brain cursing him out for sounding so calm and sure. And as her throat tightened almost painfully, she struggled to take in calm and even breaths, frowning when infuriating tears pricked the corners of her eyes. At her refusal, she heard him sigh softly, the sound echoing in the room—and she could almost picture him in her mind, shaking his head—his expression both grim and hurt.

"Emma—"

"I have to go Hook." Her voice was barely above a muted whisper, and placing her hand on the door, she closed her eyes briefly—after their shared passion his moniker tasted bitter on her tongue, her lips longed to speak his true name again. "I'm sorry…I just…I have to go."

And quickly, without turning around, without so much as a backwards glance, she fled his cabin, the sound of his voice calling out to her resonating in her ears as her boots pounded against the wooden planks carrying her forward and urging her on.

Coming above deck, she ran across the ship, hurriedly making her way to the dock, the cool sea air stinging her warm cheeks—the feeling both harsh and welcoming.

As she exited the ship and moved away from it, slowing her steps considerably so as to not draw any unnecessary attention from those who lingered near the water, she felt a tingling of awareness dance up her spine, tempting her to cast a look over her shoulder, pushing her to do it despite her better judgment.

And unable to deny herself a quick peek, she stopped. Turning around, she shot a look behind her—her breath catching in her throat when she saw his dark figure, standing near the helm of the Jolly Roger, seemingly looking in her direction. And while in her hurry she had been able to put a decent amount of distance between herself and the sea, for a moment, she felt as if nothing separated them, the space between them insignificant.

Watching as he inclined his head in her direction, she tensed, unsure whether the small nod was simply one of acknowledged defeat or of a challenge accepted. Unwilling to allow herself to ponder over it, she sucked in a deep breath and tore her gaze away from him, noting the way the air whipping around her seemed to sizzle and spark with near tangible chemistry. And continuing her walk from the docks, she listened as her boots clicked against the wood in a steady and even rhythm, shuddering as hot images flashed before her eyes, and a heated flush swept across her skin.

As she took the steps leading away from the water two at a time, again she tried to reassure herself it had been a one time thing. Ignoring the ever present nagging voice in her head that whispered to her that Storybrooke was a small town—she and Hook would cross paths soon.

And with the wind rippling lightly through her hair and the scent of the sea fading behind her, she was unable to stop the small tentative smile that spread across her lips.

Regardless whether she was was ready to fully accept what had happened, despite her reluctance to explore her tumultuous feelings for him, there was one thing she couldn't deny…

This thing between them was far from over.

**TBC…**

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_Thoughts? _

_Thank you to _**eaasybugboy **over on tumblr _for the suggestion to write a prequel!_**  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Second Time**

_The second time it had happened she'd been drinking alone at Granny's. The stress of her parents doting, Regina's insistence that she be allowed to have a more active role in Henry's life, and Neal's overall continued presence in Storybrooke, too much for her to handle without the aid of alcohol. He had strolled in shortly after her third beer and without hesitation had joined her. They had proceeded to drink a filthy amount of liquor together, buying each other shots and arguing over nothing of significance. When they had finally closed their tabs the sexual tension between them had been near tangible. The second time had been hasty, raw, and slightly dirty. The alleyway behind the diner had been as far as they had made it before he had pressed her up against the brick wall of the nearest building, taking her hard and fast—their muffled pants echoing throughout the night. And when they had finished she had zipped up her jeans avoiding his eyes, telling him that, _that_ was definitely the last time. And he had merely smirked knowingly before wishing her goodnight and disappearing into the darkness._

**~Mine**

**Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT**

**REVIEW?!**

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"You ready for your third?"

At the sound of Ruby's slightly amused voice, Emma glanced up, her mouth twitching into a smirk as she nodded without hesitation, ignoring the briefest hint of concern that flashed in the waitress' eyes as she looked back down at the table in front of her, tracing small circles slowly on the clean smooth surface. Even as her mind began to wander, she could feel Ruby still staring at her—her dark gaze searching her, almost imploring Emma to look back at her, to open herself up while laying her problems out on the table. But refusing the silent offer of friendship, Emma stubbornly kept her eyes down, vaguely noting Ruby's soft sigh—the sound of her footsteps fading away causing relief to wash over her as she brought the mug of beer to her lips, sipping the last of its contents.

Quiet life in Storybrooke was going to take some getting used to.

With Neverland far behind them, everyone had settled into a routine.

A routine that Emma both appreciated and despised.

Her parents were constantly studying her, their concerned gazes watching her, searching her, almost as if they were just waiting for her to crack and finally break—nearly three decades worth of anguish and hurt and desperation coming to an end.

Regina was a relentless annoyance—after their tentative alliance to get Henry back from Neverland she was constantly pestering Emma for more time with their son. It bothered her, the mayor's past actions were hard to forget, and the tiny seeds of jealousy that lurked in her heart didn't make things any less complicated. The former evil queen had gotten to spend the past eleven years with her son—and now Emma had just gotten him back and was still getting to know him, she hated for anyone, his adoptive mother included, to disrupt their time together.

To make matters even worse, Neal was _still_ in town, and their relationship was rocky to say the least. Having put his plans of going back to New York on hold, he had taken up what seemed like a near permanent residence in Granny's Inn, adding yet another person to the already too large list of people she had to share her son with.

Sighing Emma leaned back in the booth she was sitting in—tucked away in the back of the diner she was able to observe who was coming and going with whom. Although, taking note of the nearly empty restaurant and the somewhat late hour, she had a feeling before too long it was going to be just her and Ruby, until the waitress finally closed up shop and kicked her out. Rolling her tense shoulders, she continued to let her mind wander further, wincing a bit as her thoughts immediately drifted to _him._

Hook.

And with those thoughts heated images assaulted her brain—she could nearly hear his gruff voice in her head, she could feel his hot fingers on her body, her skin against his, his mouth on hers. And with the memories the puzzling and mixed feelings of desire, regret, and need collided together inside of her; creating a firestorm of emotions that left her feeling both annoyed and confused.

For a while she had almost effortlessly avoided him—the pirate Captain seemingly preferring to stick to the docks and his ship. She should have known better than to get comfortable. It was just as she had begun to feel more at ease in town, unafraid that she would find him lurking outside the sheriff's station or hanging around Granny's diner that she had run into him.

Quite literally…

"_But like do you ever think about going back? Living in a castle, riding horses, going on more adventures?"_

_Emma rolled her eyes, focusing on her ice cream cone in hand as Henry walked next to her continuing to barrel on and on about returning to the Enchanted Forest, the kid's desire to play knight and slay dragons both endearing and tiring._

"_I don't think they have indoor plumbing kid. You really want to go to a place with no hot showers?"_

_Licking around her cone she watched as Henry finished the rest of his, and stopping, he turned to look at her, tilting his head to the side as he seemingly considered her question. And as she took in the sight of him, a bundle of energy and hope, she couldn't help the small smile that dusted her lips as she studied him. After all they'd been through, it was simple moments like this…a walk in the park while eating ice cream with her son…that the desire to fall to the ground and hug her knees to her chest while indulging herself in a good long cry came on the strongest._

_Dramatic but true all the same._

"_I don't know." Henry said slowly, and looking up at her, his eyes drifted past her shoulder, his face brightening considerably. "What do you think Captain is it that bad?" _

_Eyes widening Emma turned around; stepping forward slightly as she did she found herself running right smack into the middle of a hard, sturdy, unyielding and very male body. Gasping softly, she let out a string of curses as the ice cream cone she'd been holding got sandwiched between them—the cold dessert smearing against the exposed skin of her chest, in a mixture of vanilla and chocolate. As he brought his arms up, both his fingers and hook settling at her waist to steady her, she shivered, and clenching her teeth together, tried to tell herself it was because of the cold melting ice cream and not his hot all too familiar touch._

"_Hello Swan."_

_He spoke quietly, his voice washing over her in a lilting and intoxicating tone—she just barely suppressed the urge to sigh and lean into him, the impulse both surprising and annoying her. Backing away from him, she avoided his eyes as she wiped away the smeared ice cream with the rumpled napkin she had wrapped around the cone._

"_Hook." She said softly, her gaze focused intently on her task. _

"_You should be more careful princess."_

_Irritated she looked up at him with a sigh, immediately registering her mistake when she realized he was still too close for comfort—his blue eyes hot and burning, the feeling of being stripped and exposed in front of him unsettling her. _

"_Maybe you shouldn't sneak up on people…it's weird. Creepy." She muttered; wincing when she saw the top of her tank top was stained with chocolate._

"_Yes well, I'll keep that in mind." His voice held the tiniest hint of amusement, and she cursed him again, because suddenly her entire body was humming as memories of the last time they had been together bombarded her quickly, nearly leaving her breathless._

"_So what do you think Captain…is the Enchanted Forest really that bad compared to Storybrooke?"_

_At the sound of Henry's voice behind her, she jumped, watching as Hook's eyes softened considerably before glancing over her shoulder at her son and seeing the gentle look he gave him, she felt the oddest sensation course through her as the pirate bestowed Henry with a quick and genuine smile._

"_It's Killian my boy, we're not on my ship, you needn't call me Captain." For a moment his eyes drifted back to her, and leaning in, closing the gap between them so that his body brushed against hers ever so slightly, he lowered his voice. "Although you Swan, may call me Captain anytime you want…I would so enjoy hearing it—"_

"_Shut up!" she hissed at him through gritted teeth, narrowing her eyes as he smiled wickedly at her and shot her a quick wink before straightening again, once more focusing his attention on her son._

"_Storybrooke has its advantages yes, but the Enchanted Forest is my home lad…I look forward to the day I can return."_

_At his words, her eyes snapped to him and she noticed with some reluctance how something suddenly pulled at her belly—an odd and out of place panicked feeling shooting through her body. Studying him quietly she watched as he slowly turned his head, locking his gaze with hers—his eyes searching, a silent question in their blue depths._

"_Is something bothering you darling?"_

"_I—I just didn't realize you planned on going back?"_

_He stared at her hard for a moment, something intense flashed in his gaze while faint gentleness took hold of his features. "Would it bother you if I did lass?"_

_Yes._

"_No. I mean,…I—um…" her voice wavered as she considered his question. It would. She knew it would—more than she was willing to admit. And her mind began to wander without her consent, the memories…the taste and feel of his lips against hers silently taunting her. "Um—"_

"_When are you going back?"_

_Henry's voice had her shaking her head, clearing it of the fogginess that his revelation had suddenly brought upon her. _

"_When are you going back?" Henry questioned again, stepping towards them. _

_And noticing how close they were standing, Emma quickly backed away._

_His eyes still on her, Hook smirked. "It depends lad."_

"_On what?"_

_Turning his focus back on her son, Hook answered his question, his voice holding a steely an unwavering determination. "There's an elusive creature that resides in this land…something I'd like bring back with me."_

_Feeling her face go hot as his words dripped with implications, the intensity of his tone startling her, she barely registered Henry's inquiry about what he was talking about—her son's question full of youthful innocence. And as Hook expertly changed the subject, distracting him with tales of the high seas, Emma turned from the duo, her heart in her throat, and something odd and hopeful settling itself within her._

"Here ya go…anything else?"

Glancing up as Ruby placed her beer in front of her, Emma shook her head silently, her thoughts scattering as the memory from the park resonated softly in her brain.

"You okay Emma?"

Nodding, she forced a tight smile, closing her eyes for a minute before meeting Ruby's dark and curious stare. "Yeah, yeah I was just thinking, that's all."

"If you want to talk…" the brunette let the sentence hang for a moment, and Emma was hit with the sudden and swift feeling of guilt and ungratefulness as the realization that the girl who stood before her had never offered her anything but unwavering and unquestioned support.

"Thank you." she said softly, wishing she could find it in herself to open up to her…to anyone really. "I've really just got some things on my mind I'd rather not talk about but—"

"It's fine…just..if you need me, I'm here. Sometimes it's better to get things out in the open."

Touched by the offer, Emma watched as Ruby walked away, the waitress clearing the surrounding tables as she slowly made her way back to the front counter. And looking down, Emma focused her attention on her hands, picking at her fingernails as her thoughts began to drift, annoyed when they immediately went back to a certain captain with a penchant for rum and a knack for cleverly placed innuendos.

"Fancy seeing you here Swan."

At the sound of his low and smooth deeply accented voice, Emma closed her eyes tightly on a wince while briefly wondering who the hell she had pissed off upstairs to put her in such an undeserved situation—she had just wanted to drink in peace, was that really too much to ask.

"_Hook_…I was just leaving."

"Pity."

Ignoring him, she brought her beer to her lips and chugging deeply tried not to flinch when he sat down in the booth across from her, his legs brushing hers lightly as he settled in comfortably, seemingly unconcerned by the stiff tone she had greeted him with. Setting the mug down on the table between them and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she leveled him with a curious glare.

"What are you doing?"

He shot her a slow grin; it was unfair really, the way his mouth was able to quirk up into something that promised wicked and wonderful things**, **all in a tiny and calculated tilt of his lips. "Ordering you another ale darling, and myself some rum."

Barely suppressing the urge to laugh in his face, Emma shook her head quickly, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. "I am _not_ drinking with you."

Seemingly ignoring her incredulous tone Hook waved Ruby back to their table, shooting the brunette a quick wink as she caught sight of them and gave a curt nod, signaling she'd be over shortly. As his eyes lingered on the waitress a moment longer than necessary, Emma felt her posture straighten slightly, her eyes narrowing fractionally. And as something cool and tingling ran down her spine…something that very closely resembled jealousy…she cursed silently, annoyed with both herself and with him for reasons she was unwilling to admit to.

"Hook I'm not—"

"Not sure you can hold your own against a pirate sweetheart?"

"Don't be stupid."

"Scared then?"

This time she did laugh at him, the sound not quite ringing true as it held a note of disbelief and rang with unmasked sarcasm. "That's a cute trick…but also an old one. You aren't going to get me to drink with you by—"

"Is it because of what happened last time we were alone together pet? I don't regret it Emma…not a bit"

"Shut-up!" the words flew from her mouth in a whispered shriek and as Ruby approached them, she watched as she raised a dark eyebrow questioningly, her gaze flitting between the two of them.

"Everything okay?"

Gritting her teeth, Emma watched as Hook shot her friend a slow appraising look—the once over, followed by an innocent smile. "I was merely trying to convince the sheriff to indulge in an ale with me."

Glancing over at Emma, Ruby stared at her a moment, her expression speculative. "Emma?"

Maybe it was the drinks that were already buzzing their way through her veins, settling in her brain and bringing her defenses down a little. Maybe it was the stupid unwanted threat that lingered in the back of her head—shooting images of Hook and Ruby leaving the diner together. Or maybe it was just him; his knowing eyes and unnerving presence…but before she could stop herself she was turning her gaze to Ruby and giving her a tight smile and a quick nod.

"You got tequila here?"

Ruby narrowed her eyes, surprise briefly flashing in them. "Um yeah…we keep the liquor stocked."

"Bring us a bottle of whatever tequila you've got in stock and some limes. Keep the beer coming."

Ruby's eyes widened a little, a small grin appearing on her mouth before disappearing smartly. "Uhhh sure…coming right up."

Turning back to Hook, Emma shot him a dull smile, ignoring the smug look that had settled across his features. "You need to expand your horizons past rum and I'm not in a whiskey mood tonight so we're drinking tequila.

"Naturally."

"Have you ever had tequila?"

"No matter the liquor I can hold own my sweetheart don't fret over me."

Her humorless smile widened, crinkling her eyes a bit at the corners. "I'm not."

"Right, of course you're not darling."

Scowling, she leaned back as Ruby made a swift return with their order—setting two beer mugs down in front of them, as well as a bowl of limes, the bottle of tequila along with a couple of shot glasses—the waitress was barely able to hide the smirk on her lips as she cleared Emma's old mug away before muttering something about yelling if they needed anything.

Clearing his throat, Hook reached out and picked up the bottle, turning it over and studying it questioningly. And watching as his blue gaze appraised the liquor, his eyes somehow intense and smoldering even with the simple and curious task, suddenly annoyed and on edge, Emma shot a hand out and grabbed it from him harshly, ignoring the amused smile that dashed across his lips as the bottle was ripped from his grasp. Refusing to meet his blatant stare, she lined up the shot glasses, pouring a healthy dose in each. And grabbing the limes she slid his shot over to him, carefully laying the citrus next to it as she did.

"What the bloody hell is this?"

She smirked at him, and grabbing the salt, raised a brow. "It's how we get stupid drunk here…_shots_." And without another word, she licked the skin where her thumb and forefinger met, sprinkled it with salt and sucked it lightly before throwing back the shot and bringing the lime to her mouth, sucking on it as the tequila burned its way down her throat.

"That's a sodding waste of good liquor."

Emma laughed—the buzz from the shot swimming a bit in her head, her skin heating as she noticed his eyes lingering on her lips. "Really and why's that?"

"Where I come from we savor it darling"

"Scared of drinking too much?"

Picking up the shot glass, Hook sniffed at the tequila, his eyebrows rising fractionally as he did. "Just a bit puzzled by your practices love."

With her previous beers and the current shot running through her veins, suddenly feeling bold she leaned over the table ever so slightly, "Not sure you can hold your own against a princess…_Captain?"_ she said softly, murmuring his challenge back to him.

The look that flashed in his eyes was as dark as it was promising, and before she had the chance to lean away from him again, he grabbed her wrist with his hooked hand. Disregarding the gasp of protest that fell from her lips, he brought her hand to his mouth—kissing her skin lightly and then pouring salt on it quickly. And before she could register what he was doing…_his obvious intentions_…before she could even attempt to put out the sudden burst of fire that roared to life inside of her, he was licking the salt off of her slowly, his tongue darting out knowingly. And holding her eyes, he threw the tequila back, smirking a bit as it ran down his throat, completely disregarding the lime as he swallowed.

"Curious." he said softly, his eyes going from her to the bottle.

_Her skin was scorching._

"Don't—don't do that again." Her voice was raspy, her tone weak. Belatedly she realized he was still holding her hand, and snatching it away from him, she wiped her palm on her jeans, the lingering feel of his tongue on her skin refusing to fade.

Hook merely smiled seemingly both unconcerned and unaffected, and grabbing the tequila he poured them another shot. "Shall we have another my dear?"

Wrapping her fingers around her beer mug, Emma took a moment to steady her breathing, her skin still hot from where his mouth and tongue had brushed her. Bringing the mug to her lips she took a long sip, savoring the cold taste of the beer as it slid down her throat, cooling the harsh aftereffects of the tequila. He was dangerous…_this was dangerous_…and she knew that if she continued to drink with him, continued to allow herself to stay in his company…things would not end well.

"This ale disturbingly resembles water.

His matter of fact tone had her eyes shooting to his and lowering the mug, she smiled despite herself at his somewhat offended tone. "You'll get used to it."

Smirking, he leaned in towards her, the action causing her to sit back in the booth, pressing her body into her seat, she attempted to get as far away from him as possible. And taking note of her actions, he cocked an eyebrow, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "Why were you here drinking _alone_ lass?"

Unnerved by his question, by his overall presence, Emma shook her head, and grabbing her shot lifted it to her lips, ignoring the warning bells in her head, the fluttering of butterflies that were coming to life in her belly as her hazy brain kept conjuring up hot images of them together—the mere brush of his leg against hers underneath the table doing nothing to stop her wandering mind.

"Just needed a break." she said hoarsely and disregarding the salt, she threw the shot back and grabbed a lime, sucking on it to chase the burning taste away.

"I could offer you the distraction you so desperately seek." He sipped his beer carefully, raising a brow when she sighed and looked pointedly at his still full shot glass.

"Not gonna happen pal, and you're a shot behind now." Gesturing to his tequila, she drank more of her beer, ignoring the way her whole body was humming at the obvious implications of his last statement.

Chuckling deeply, the sound resonating in her head and stoking the fire that was warming her from the inside out, he picked up his shot and threw it back without hesitation, licking his lips and catching an escaping drop with his tongue as he placed the glass back down again, his eyes seeking hers once more.

_She was fucked._

Looking away from him and over his shoulder, her eyes falling on a bored Ruby for a moment, and then back at the table in front of them, she focused on the scuff marks that marred its surface. Sighing softly, her head buzzing slightly, she ran her tongue across her lips, licking the last remnants of salt away. "So you're thinking about going back to Fairytale Land?"

"Fairytale Land?"

She picked at the scratches and dents, refusing to look him in the eye. "The Enchanted Forest…the other day in the park you had mentioned it."

She heard him shift in his seat—the scrape of his beer mug against the table, the soft sound of him taking a deep drink—before he placed the mug back down, his knuckles rapping lightly against the glass.

"Eventually I'd like to go back there yes."

"Why?" she asked the table, her eyes still cast down, still reluctant to meet his stare. And she hated the quiet note of uncertainty laced with just the tiniest hint of desperation and betrayal that lurked in her tone.

It took him a moment to answer but when he did the wistfulness in his tone was unmistakable, "The Enchanted Forest…there's something wild and beautiful and free about it. I feel trapped here…caged. I'm quite certain I don't belong in this land."

Something inside of her dropped at the words—they stung. More than she was willing to admit. And she tried to tell herself it was the alcohol—the liquor acting as an intensifier for the stupid schoolgirl crush she had. Because that was what it was…a crush, a slight infatuation…an itch that needed to be scratched.

_Lies._

"But as I told your boy there's something…_" _he paused, a silence hanging between them for a moment, "_someone_…in this world I wish to bring with me…a little convincing…"

Her body began to tingle as his words trailed off, her throat tightened almost painfully and shooting her somewhat hazy gaze up, she met his cool and unblinking stare. "I'm not something to—to just be possessed Hook." Her voice came out huskier than she would have liked, the words more of a soft murmur than a sharp shutdown.

He grinned at her quickly, his legs stretching out just a bit beneath the table, the action causing them to brush up against hers, the touch nearly burning the skin beneath her jeans.

"You misunderstand me Swan, given the opportunity you're much like the land you come from…wild, beautiful, and free…this place has you contained I only want to show you the possibilities, I'd never dream—"

"_Stop_." Cutting him off, unwilling to listen to anymore, afraid of what he would reveal, she poured them another shot, his words still sliding silkily over her—whispering hidden meanings and revelations she wasn't yet ready to hear. "Do another with me."

He laughed at her demand, watching her closely as she licked her wrist and salted her skin.

"You know I think about it constantly."

"What?" she asked the question before she could stop herself and throwing back the shot she attempted to ignore his impending answer.

"Our night together. The way you came undone beneath me. The sight of you yielding to me in my arms. The feel of you letting go completely."

At his words the tequila burned, she sputtered slightly, choking on the alcohol as immediately she saw visions of them dancing before her eyes; the way he had driven himself into her, the way she had clung to him desperately—calling out his name, coming hard, and needing more. Unable to take the intensity of the images, the swirling emotions, she shut her eyes quickly, shaking her head, and cursing silently as her fuzzy brain swam.

"God…just…I—I…"

"It felt right."

Placing a shaky hand to her head, she let out a heavy breath, his hypnotizing voice luring her to lean closer as she noted the way his fingers stroked the side of his beer mug softly, almost tenderly—she swore to God he was doing it on purpose.

"Hook…"

"Can I get you guys anything else…you're doing a pretty decent job on that tequila."

Practically jumping away from him, Emma shot back in her seat at the sound of Ruby's voice, watching as Hook smirked infuriatingly at her, his eyes roaming over her knowingly, the small grin catching on his lips suggestively. Finally, slowly, breaking his gaze away from hers, releasing her from his blue and binding spell he looked over at Ruby, flashing her his most winning smile.

"Get the lass a bit of rum and we'll be leaving here shortly, the sheriff won't be able to walk home if she has too much more."

Straightening in her seat, Emma shot him a glare. "I'm fine and I said I wasn't drinking rum."

"Do me the favor Emma."

At his lazy request, the playful look he shot her, and the devil-may-care grin that ghosted his lips, she found herself nearly speechless, struggling not to indulge in a genuine smile—part of her wanting desperately to throw caution to the wind.

"_Fine_ whatever."

At her answer his smile widened and standing suddenly, Emma watched as he walked towards the bathrooms, his movements still graceful even after the beer and liquor he had consumed.

"So you want to talk about this before he comes back?"

Looking down at her empty mug, Emma cringed slightly at Ruby's vaguely amused question, hating the knowing and appreciative tone that was woven into it.

"Nope."

At her fast answer, Ruby chuckled and nodding, she cleared away some of the limes and their empty beer mugs. "Can't say that I blame you…_that man_…the things I would do to him…"

"Ruby!"

Shooting her a fast grin, seemingly unconcerned by Emma's outraged tone, the brunette shrugged. " A girl can always look." And grabbing the last of their discarded limes she walked away, quipping over her shoulder that she'd be back with their rum.

At the reminder, Emma chewed on her lip lightly, considering the diner's door she studied the exit hard. She could make a run for it. She had cash in her pocket—she could throw down enough money to cover their drinks and flee into the night, the possibility of him catching up to her a risk she'd have to take.

If she left now there was a chance she could avoid the inevitable…because willing to accept it or not she couldn't deny that there was something between them. Something that screamed significance and threatened consequence. If she left now she could resist the longing, the pull, the need for one more night…one more time. If she stayed the urge to succumb to him—especially with her brain slightly foggy, her body humming with desire, and lips burning with need—would be too great for her to ignore.

Watching as Ruby walked back towards the table, two small glasses filled with rum on her tray, she continued to chew her lip while casting her eyes towards the small hall Hook and disappeared down. And as the liquor was placed down in front of her, followed by a quick wink and a friendly smile, Emma settled back in her seat, a sigh that flitted somewhere between defeat and acceptance escaping her lips as she drew her glass of rum closer to her. Bringing it to her nose she sniffed the strong contents, a tiny smirk crossing her lips as the familiar scent drifted up to her—a scent that would always remind her of adventure, of the sea…of _him._

And it was with that thought and gentle realization that she made her decision.

She was staying.

* * *

"I can't believe you paid for our drinks with a bag of gold and…what was that a diamond?" Emma rubbed her temples tiredly, shaking her head as he stepped in front of her, holding the door open and smiling charmingly as she merely rolled her eyes and exited the diner.

"Sapphire…and the barmaid seemed quite pleased by the satchel of gems I offered her."

Caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation, Emma closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the night air washing over her, caressing her hot cheeks and cooling her body. Glancing behind her, she frowned slightly when she saw how close he was to her, having come up to walk beside her, his body nearly brushed against hers.

"That's not how we pay for stuff here."

He smirked, staring down at her thoughtfully, his eyes even more vividly blue in the black night as they searched hers relentlessly, a quiet challenge hidden in their endless depths even as they continued their mundane conversation. "Ahhhh yes, the paper money, something I'll never understand."

"It's how things work here." She said softly, her body suddenly feeling alive in the more intimate setting of the dark and silent outdoors. She could feel her resolve against him quickly fading, her desire to resist him nearly gone. "Listen um…thanks for the drinks and company and whatever…I'm—uh gonna get going. It's a short walk and I'll—I'll see you around or something."

His presence was unnerving, his closeness distracting.

_She had to get away from him. _

Clearing her throat she turned and began walking away, shaking her head, she tried to clear it as she turned down the alley, intent on losing him, needing to collect herself, desperate to begin thinking rationally once again. She had just barely begun to put space between them when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her—the stride fast and full of purpose. Heaving a sigh, she turned, watching as his dark figure came towards her quickly, the sight of him advancing on her with only the dim moonlight cast behind him nearly stealing her breath. And as he drew even closer, approaching her fast, she felt her heart leap to her throat as every nerve in her body stood to attention.

"Hook listen—"

He didn't give her a chance to finish, closing the space between them, he brought his good hand behind her neck and wrapping his hooked arm around her waist, he dragged her to him, silencing her muffled protests with his hot and branding lips—kissing her hard and without the courtesy of preamble.

The moment his lips touched hers, the moment their bodies collided, pressing together intimately…she knew fighting him was hopeless. Sucking in a breath and winding her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss without thought, nipping at his lips and pressing him to her, needing to feel his body heavy against hers. At her vigorous and enthusiastic response he made an appreciative humming sound low in his throat and walking her backwards, pushed her up against the wall behind her, the feeling of hard brick at her back only intensifying her need while fueling her growing hunger.

"Oh God." She murmured, as his lips left hers and trailed hotly down her neck biting the skin there as his stubble scratched and marked her. His hands, good and bad, were everywhere at once—his fingers and hook running up and down her hips, digging into her, the touch sending a shudder down her body.

Not allowing herself a chance to think it through—silently telling herself she was drunk and horny and he was willing and ready, disregarding the dark and taunting voice in the back of her head that was blatantly calling her on her lie—she pulled at his pants, untying the laces with frantic fingers.

"_Emma_." His gruff voice had a question laced through it, one that was terrifying and thrilling and telling.

One she was unwilling to answer.

"Shut-up" she whispered against his lips, catching them again in a frantic and frenzied kiss, her tongue tangling with his, the action causing him to thrust his body towards hers on a broken groan. His hands moved from her hips to her pants, unbuttoning them, he dragged the zipper down, his movements impatient and fast. And when his fingers dipped inside her underwear, finding their way to where she was already hot and wet for him, she threw her head back, breaking their kiss—her muffled gasp echoing in the dead silence that surrounded them.

"So wet Emma." he said softly as he dipped a finger into her, stroking her deeply, fingering her knowingly.

Her head was buzzing from both tequila and his actions, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to fall to the ground, her body unable to take the sensations he was forcing on her—the feel of his finger slowly moving in and out of her at a torturing pace, the knowledge that they were outside, that what they were doing was wrong—only driving her lust on, increasing her desire and pushing her forward.

"I need…" she broke off on a moan as he thrust his finger deeper into her, her hands falling limply to her side as she leaned heavily against the wall, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with her.

Shifting towards her, so that he was pressed against her, his hand trapped between them, cupping her hotly, still moving his finger, he placed his lips near her ear. "What do you need?" he murmured softly, his breath, hot and laced with liquor, flitting down her neck.

"You." She breathed the word without thought, desperate for him and unwilling to deny it. "You, I need you. _Please."_

Pulling his head back from the side of her neck he looked down at her, and smiling darkly, moved forward and kissed her roughly—violently demanding she keep up with him, his tongue dueling with hers, his lips branding, his teeth scraping.

_And she was drowning, unable to keep up, but unwilling to walk away._

Slipping his fingers out of her, he yanked her pants down. Not bothering to take his time, he fought with them so that they pooled near her feet. Impatiently he yanked one shoe off and then the other as she stood numbly allowing him to maneuver her—tossing the boots and her pants carelessly aside. And just as her cheeks were starting to flame, her mind begging her to second-guess their rash and hasty decision, he was slipping his own pants down. And bringing his hands to her again, resting them at either side of her hips, he leaned towards her once more.

"I'm going to have you Emma, right here, against this wall, I'm going to take you…unless you tell me no. Tell me no…right now…tell me it's not what you want and I'll let you go."

His deep voice was rougher and darker than she'd ever heard it, the sound sending chills down her spine as his warning, his words, resonated throughout her. And unable to find her voice, not sure if she'd ever be able to speak again, she pulled him closer, her nails clawing at his back as she kissed him—answering his question with her hungry lips.

He groaned with the action, and as he hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around him willingly, their breaths mingling together as his body pressed her hard against the wall—the feel of the scratchy brick and the cool steel of his hook digging into her skin, causing her to moan in breathy pleasure. And clinging to him greedily, she whimpered as his hard length teasingly pressed against her hot entrance.

"Please." She whispered softly, tilting her head to the side as he paid her plea no mind, kissing up and down her neck, before claiming her lips once more. Tauntingly, teasingly, he thrust his hips upwards, pressing the tip of himself into her—and she closed her eyes for a moment, biting down hard on her lip. "Please I need it….Hook—_Killian…_please."

At the sound of his name on her lips, she felt him stiffen, and lifting his head, he stared at her intently—his eyes flashing, his breathing uneven. "Swan…_Emma_…" he murmured her name softly, almost tenderly, and without saying another word, he thrust his hips upwards again, sheathing himself fully inside of her, the action causing her to cry out silently, her head falling back against the wall as her brain swam dizzyingly and her body tingled appreciatively.

"Yes…yes." she whispered, the feeling of him completely buried inside of her, awakening the fire that lurked deep within, too great for her to deny.

_And she was completely and undeniably his._

For a moment he stayed still, her walls pulsing and throbbing around him as he breathed heavily against her, his lips resting on the pulse point at her neck. And just when she was about to beg for him to look at her, to move, to do _something,_ he raised his head, looked her in the eyes, and began to move.

The moment his hips drew back, sliding his length out of her, before pushing towards her again, she knew they were both lost. Almost calmly they gave themselves over to sensation and feelings, knowing there was no turning back—the chance to deny it had never really been there in the first place. And then finally, after that one fleeting moment of soothing acceptance, where their bodies joined together, welcoming each other, he set the pace.

It was fast, frantic, and near brutal.

He pounded into her hard, paying no attention, giving no care to the unforgiving wall at her back. And she relished the feeling, surprised by his strength, savoring the prickling of pain as he drove her towards blissful oblivion.

Whimpers fell from her lips rapidly as she clung to him, her legs locked tighter around him, refusing to let go. And as he continued to thrust into her deeply she knew she'd be marked the next day—her back scraping the wall, his fingers digging punishingly into her flesh.

And she loved it.

The pleasure and pain—it felt both right and wrong and she craved more, never wanting it to end.

_She felt wild, beautiful and free.  
_

Gasping as he shifted upwards, thrusting into her and hitting her in a spot that had her seeing sparks behind her eyes, she bit her lip as he leaned up and brought his mouth to her ear whispering hot words to her about how she felt wrapped around him—reveling over how tight and wet she was, repeating the words softly when they caused her to shiver, the low moan falling from her lips driving him on.

As he continued to fuck her hard, taking her and making her his, she tilted her head towards the sky, watching as dark clouds passed over the moon, the twinkling of stars shining down on them catching her eye as her walls began to tighten, his words echoing softly, the feel of him sliding in and out of her becoming too much.

"Killian." she said his name once, a whispered warning, and arching her body into his, she fell apart, coming hard, clenching around him and choking out a silent sob of ecstasy.

As she shuddered and whimpered, her orgasm violently wracking her body, she hugged him close, appreciating the way he continued to slam her into the wall, intent on seeking his own release, driven on by her soft cries and breathy pants.

"Say it again." he growled, his voice low and dangerous and pushing into her, he pinned her hard against the brick. The jarring feeling causing her to cry out—the sound muffled when he covered her mouth with his. Eagerly she kissed him back, responding enthusiastically even as her entire body went limp, humming and buzzing with the aftershocks of her climax. Breaking away from her, he moved his hips again, and reaching up, pulled on her hair, forcing her to look at him—sea and sky colliding in a storm of emotions—she lost herself in his eyes.

"Say it again Emma." he demanded, tilting his hips upwards again.

_At that moment, it was hopeless to deny him._

_At that moment she'd give him anything._

"Killian." she whispered against his lips, her breath feathering out in a halting rhythm.

And hearing it he closed his eyes, wincing slightly almost as if the sound caused him pain, before, muttering a curse,—a wish, an oath, a prayer—he pushed into her again, once, twice, before shuddering in her arms, and pulsing inside of her, coming hard and fast as his name continued to fall from her lips softly, soothingly, promisingly.

When they were both spent, with no more left to give and nothing more to take, gently he eased up on her, slipping out of her, and allowing her to unwrap her legs from around him, continuing to hold her up as she placed one unsteady leg on the ground and then another.

Letting out a slow, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes, releasing his neck from her brutal grasp, she backed away from him and rested her head against the brick, the feel of the wall at her back both comforting and threatening—the solid support soothing her, the cage it provided terrifying her.

As reality came crashing back down on her, edging its way into her still over liquored brain she shook her head, trying to summon up the proper feelings of regret and anger but unable to truly feel either.

Deep and warm satisfaction tinted with something much stronger lingered in her body instead.

And that, worried her more than anything else.

More than the fact that they had just had hot and dirty sex in the alleyway outside of the diner, more than the fact that she was going to be bruised and sore the next morning, more than the fact that she had told herself time and time again that their last encounter had been a one time thing only.

_The feelings coursing through her were familiar and new—promising and devastating._

Bending over she retrieved her jeans and boots and tugging them up and slipping them on, she refused to look at him as he backed away from her and pulled his own pants up. Swallowing over her suddenly too narrow throat, she brought a shaky hand to her hair, her lips trembling ever so slightly, the urge to cry both surprising and angering her.

"That—that was definitely the last time." She said hoarsely to the ground, refusing to meet his eyes as her voice wavered with the words.

She both saw and felt him step towards her, his black boots moving closer to her, the warmth of his body, his familiar scent drawing nearer. And with the action she took a step back, cursing inwardly when her back hit the wall. Panicked, her eyes flashed to his, and when their gazes clashed, mentally she berated herself, because facing his burning, honest and intense gaze was something she wasn't prepared for, not when both her mind and body were still reeling from being with him.

"Hook I'm serious—"

He leaned towards her, cutting off her words, and she sucked in a deep breath, her vision wavering, her heart pounding. She told herself if he made another move she'd drop him, drunk or not she'd be able to hold her own against him, she was a fighter, a survivor. And just when she was about to push him away, to knee him in the groin, he shot her a quick smile, allowing his eyes to sweep down her once, before finding their way back to hers.

Inclining his head to the side he gave her a slight nod, "good night Emma…until next time."

And with those words, laced with the hint of a promise, he walked away, leaving her speechless.

As she watched as his figure leisurely moved farther from her, the night enveloping him slowly, before gradually consuming him entirely, in his place nothing but empty dark space, she battled silently with herself—half of her itched to shout his name, calling him back to her, while the other half begged for her to let him go, imploring she take the space he had given her.

For now, she chose the latter.

_For now._

Sighing, the breath coming out harsh and shaky, Emma took note of the way her body began to quiver as dim revelations were slowly brought to light in her head. Tumultuous thoughts swirled in her brain and she tortured herself, conjuring up images of him, willingly taunting herself as she processed their heated actions.

She couldn't regret it.

She didn't_ want_ to regret it.

_She wanted more._

Pushing herself away from the wall, she began walking, her legs unsteady, her body limp. And as she made her way home, her lazy mind refusing to dwell any further on her emotions and the consequences of their actions, she couldn't shake the feeling of his lingering presence that haunted her—the feel of his watchful eyes dancing across her skin as his words, husky and deep whispered in her head.

"_Until next time."_

* * *

**TBC suckas.**

**P.S.- THANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS I LOVE YOU ALL! OKAY?! LIKE LOVE LOVE.**


	3. Chapter 3

_The third time it had happened, had been on the anniversary of Graham's death. She had been alone in her apartment, staring at an unopened bottle of wine and crying silently—the tears had come suddenly, both depressing her and taking her by surprise. She missed him, still grieving the unfair loss of life. He had been a good man; slowly he had chipped away at the walls she had stacked around her, helping her to tentatively consider the distant and scary notion of trust. Still thinking of him, she had just been about to call it a night when Hook had barged into her apartment, dark and striking—his casual words to her had faded to a mere tisking noise when he had seen the tears in her eyes and the trembling of her lips. The third time had been slow, gentle, and meaningful. He had scooped her up without a word and she had let him, allowing him to walk her up the stairs to her bedroom—she hadn't even attempted to stop him when he had laid her on the bed. And when he had ghosted his lips over hers, whispering sweet words of endearment, she had placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, quietly asking him to stay. When she came that night, he had wiped away the fallen tears that had escaped her eyes, following her shortly after and collapsing onto her unsteadily. Afterwards neither of them had immediately spoken, words of regret and assurances that it wouldn't happen again stuck in her throat._

_~Mine_

* * *

It had happened in an instant.

And in that moment before it had happened she had been happy…truly happy—a content and exciting feeling had rushed through her fast as he had cupped her face in his roughened hands, his eyes full of unmasked wonder, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. And then it was ripped away from her...like everything else she had ever cared about and had come to rely on—taken from her without thought.

Sniffling, Emma cursed silently and shifted on the stool at the breakfast bar, trying to block out the unwanted and depressing memories.

"_Graham?"_

"_I remember."_

"_You remember what?"_

"_Thank you."_

Thank you—a goddamned expression of gratitude.

And it had been the last thing he had spoken to her, his words filled with such awe and reverence and hope.

But it didn't matter.

None of it mattered anymore.

He was no longer here.

Gone.

His heart crushed to dust...his life taken out of spite.

_Dead._

Because of her.

With his words continuing to echo hauntingly in her head, Emma stared at the unopened bottle of Pinot Noir through slightly blurry vision; her hands clenching into tight fists, as her brain taunted her with images of the former sheriff—his easy smile, kind eyes, and friendly charm. Releasing a deep shuddering breath, she swallowed over the tight lump in her throat—the feelings of guilt and regret nearly suffocating her, overwhelming her completely.

Try as she may it was impossible not to think of him—the date of his death forever stamped in her mind. And as she remembered the man who had threatened to break down her barriers, had tempted her to let him in, had encouraged her to _trust_—she couldn't help the fresh wave of tears that sprang to her eyes. He had been a good man…better than most. He hadn't deserved his fate and had been taken from the world, _from her_, far too soon. And she cringed as a whispered voice reminded her that his untimely death had been her fault, Regina's hate and wickedness having manifested because of her arrival in Storybrooke.

"I'm sorry." she whispered softly to the dark and empty loft. And her heart broke as she continued to think of him—his absence had left her thirst to trust again suddenly renewed, her once strong barriers while still in place, irreversibly weakened.

No longer impenetrable.

"Graham." she whispered his name softly, sadly…the simple word wavering around the edges, her voice trembling with emotion as she brought shaky fingers to her lips, the phantom feeling of his kiss mocking her in her overly distressed state. "I'm sorry." she said again, her voice thick with emotion.

She felt so lost and unsure—the heaviness in her heart weighing her down, its dull rhythmic beating reminding her of his ultimate sacrifice. And it was nights like these, when she allowed herself to _remember_, that she couldn't find it in her to be the compassionate savior—daughter of the eternally good and pure Snow White and Prince Charming—her raw hatred for Regina vibrating hot and intense throughout her body.

_She_ had torn him from her.

She had taken away that chance at_ something._

Something good and pure and honest.

_Something more._

And quickly she blocked out the voice in her head that was whispering in a harsh and hissing tone that he hadn't been right for her, he hadn't been what she really wanted, what she really needed.

He hadn't been him.

Hook.

_Killian._

Annoyed she reached out for the bottle of wine, gripping it tightly with a deep frown, her heart picking up in pace, her eyes hot with unshed tears. She hated herself for allowing her thoughts to take a turn in _that_ direction. Thinking about the pirate in that way was definitely something she wasn't willing to explore. And another small voice in her head reassured her that she was merely drained from the weight of the day—the anniversary of Graham's death taking its toll on her.

_Liar._

Angry she swatted away a sneaky tear that had slipped past her eye—the trailing wetness surprising her, the steady stream that followed making her feel pathetic and helpless. Desperate she tried to will her tumultuous thoughts away needing to think about anything else other than that night, Graham, Hook…her ever-evolving feelings. But her brain was cruel and ruthless—the images of the sheriff with hope and wonder in his glimmering gaze, collapsing before her, his body lifeless before it even hit the ground, flashing before her eyes.

And the blood in her veins went cold with the haunting and ugly picture, a quiet sob escaping her lips, her body suddenly trembling violently.

Had Graham still been alive maybe she would have allowed him past her defenses, maybe she would have eventually let him in. But instead he had left her, merely making her weak and vulnerable in the process. Her once thick and unbreakable walls were wavering, just waiting to come crashing down. And with the realization, no matter how hard she tried to drown out the voices and images that suddenly berated her, she couldn't help but think of _him_. And she hated herself for thinking of him because _he_ was nothing like the gentle and compassionate former sheriff.

Oh no.

He was infuriating.

He was incorrigible.

He was dangerous.

And he terrified her more than any man she'd ever met….

_Pulling her jacket closer to ward off the slight chill in the air, Emma shifted on the hard and uncomfortable bench she sat on, her eyes drifting from the elementary school building sprawling in front of her to her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. Glancing at her watch she let out a long sigh when she saw that she still had five more minutes to wait before Henry's class let out for the day—the realization causing her already sour mood to take yet another dive._

_Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she chewed on it lightly, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the bench. She was stressed and irritable and tired, so very, very tired…and she blamed it all on certain pirate who had unfortunately taken up a permanent residence in her unwillingly brain. She couldn't stop thinking about him; about their last time together, about their first time together, about how she secretly craved another time together. His touch had branded itself into her skin, his scent constantly invading her senses. She needed him. She wanted him. And with the thought echoing promisingly in her head, she tried to suppress the surprising whimper of defeat that rose up in her throat, her mouth turning down into a tight frown._

"_I find it quite amazing how enchanting you can appear even while melancholy Swan."_

_Her eyes flashing open at the sound of his voice, she shot her gaze up, feeling her cheeks go hot with a sudden wave of heat as she saw him standing in front of her, looking as dark and dangerous as ever. Dressed all in black, his long leather coat swaying gently in the soft breeze, his dark hair ruffling ever so slightly, he shot her a disarming smile, followed by a quick appraisal with his vibrant blue eyes._

"_You're tired…you're beautiful, brilliant…but tired all the same."_

_It unnerved her how well he could read her._

"_I'm fine." she muttered, her eyes drifting past him to the school, silently she willed Henry to walk through the doors, praying she wouldn't have to endure Hook's presence much longer._

_He was too observant.  
_

_Unnerving._

_At her obvious brush off, he made a low humming noise of disagreement in his throat while edging slightly closer, "I haven't figured out whether you are just a bloody terrible liar or if perhaps I'm just that well-practiced in reading you."_

"_Hook..." she said his name quietly, her heart slowing in pace for a moment as his eyes continued to burn into her before quickly it leapt, hammering rapidly against her chest. And suddenly she was back outside the diner again, pushed up against the unforgiving brick wall—his mouth, hot and branding, devouring her cries, his body heavy and unyielding pressed against hers, his muffled grunts ringing in her ears._

"_Pray tell darling, is that blush for me?"_

_Without thinking she raised a shaky hand to her flaming cheeks, swallowing quickly, she shook her head, attempting to chase the unfortunate images from her brain. "Listen I—"_

_But before she could continue, he was walking towards her, the air around him seemingly sparking with something electric and dangerous as he closed the small distance between them. Coming to a halt beside the bench, he flashed her a fast smile before drawing up his good hand, surprising her when he offered her a single white daisy._

"_What—what's this?"_

_His lips twitched, his features gentling at her breathy and confused question—the soft look he gave her scarily endearing. "It's a flower my dear."_

"_I—I…"she shook her head at him, words failing her, she stared at him mutely._

"_Generally when one is given a gift, it's proper to accept it with thanks..." he paused, letting the sentence hang, his eyes suddenly flashing wickedly. "Would you like to thank me Swan?"_

_Her gaze narrowed at the dripping innuendos that hung from the simply phrased inquiry even as a shiver ran down her spine and ignoring his question she answered him with one of her own. "Who's garden did you rip off?" _

_His smile only widened at her sharp tone, and offering the flower again he held her stare. "It's merely a single flower Emma, take it."_

_Casting him a pointed look, she tilted her head to the side, and lifting her mouth into something that was lost halfway between a smile and a scowl she reached out and took the flower, noting the way her skin tingled hot when her fingers brushed his._ _Pulling her hand back quickly she stared down at the daisy, twirling it in her fingers. Daisies were so bright and happy and friendly…everything she decidedly was not. But still, she couldn't help the tiny sliver of warmth that sneaked its way into her heart as she continued to absently spin the flower._

_No one had ever given her flowers before._

_And even though it was one small daisy, one he'd probably swiped from some poor unsuspecting soul's garden…it still touched her. _

"_What are you doing outside of my son's school Hook?" she asked him, disregarding the slightly husky tone of her voice._

"_I wanted to see you." He said the words casually, carelessly, as if it the simple fact shouldn't surprise her. _

_When she was sure she could keep a straight poker face, she glanced up at him, silently cursing him for his damn eyes—their intensity and flashing emotions, nearly too much for her to process._

"_How did you know I'd be here?" she murmured, and unconsciously bringing the flower up to her nose, she sniffed at it a little._

"_You keep a fairly tight schedule love, every day at quarter past three you come to your boy's school and wait on this bench with a scowl on your face and a faraway look in your eyes." He leaned closer, the action causing her to shrink back a bit on the bench. "Lately you seem more distant than usual. I have to wonder what's weighing so heavily on your mind."_

_Rolling her eyes, she quickly got up from the bench, needing to level the playing field. Brushing past him, she put a few feet of distance between them, breathing easier when he remained where he was, merely cocking an eyebrow up at her sudden and quick movements._

"_You stalking me now Hook?"_

_He laughed at her question, the sound low and deep and seductive. It shot straight to her belly, warming her from the inside out, and silently she cursed her traitorous brain for the hot images that replayed over and over again in her head, the pictures causing her face to heat again as desire quickly leapt to life inside of her._

_She needed to pull it together._

_She was outside an elementary school for Chrissakes. _

"_Like I said I wanted to see you."_

_Her eyes met his, and noting with some wariness how he took a step closer to her, and then another, she tried to remain calm—her breathing suddenly uneven. "Why?"_

_His lips kicked up at the corners, his eyes softening considerably. "I think about you constantly Swan…I can't stop, no matter how hard I try. I want you. I never even had you...truly had you...and yet somehow I miss you."_

_At his abrupt declaration her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she stared at him dumbly—her heart feeling uncomfortably full, her eyes stinging annoyingly. Unable to move, she watched as he continued to advance on her, stopping in front of her, the tips of his boots nearly brushing hers, the heat of his body warming her. Raising his hook, he brushed back her loose hair, placing it behind her shoulders, the sharp metal lingering near her throat as he stared down at her unblinkingly—the feeling of cool steel against her skin bringing a shiver to her body, the tremor rippling throughout her fast._

"_I need you Emma," he said simply, in a calm almost soothing voice._

"_I—I…" she stuttered, her mind racing, her lips and tongue unable to form words as she tried to process what he was saying, his honest and real words throwing her more than his blatant suggestions and obvious innuendos. "Hook—"_

"_Mom!"_

_Her eyes snapped away from his, quickly she took a small step back from him, his hook dropping away from her as she did. And she watched as his face fell slightly, before seemingly quickly recovering, he turned his attention towards Henry who was walking towards them excitedly._

"_Hey!__" her son spared her a fast smile before focusing his attention on the pirate, his face lighting up considerably as a look of awe crept into his eyes. It still surprised her how, since Neverland—since Killian had proved to him that he was indeed one of the "good-guys"—how star-struck the kid could appear when around Hook—his never-ending questions relentless, his obvious admiration somewhat endearing. "Hey Captain!"_

_Hook flashed her son a winning smile, his serious demeanor suddenly gone. "Hello my boy."_

"_What are you doing here?" _

"_I had something I needed to speak with your mother about."_

_A knowing look flashed into her son's eyes, something that both intimidated her and surprised her—the expression on his young face too perspective for her liking. Silently she begged the kid not to question them any further, feeling somewhat ridiculous for feeling like a teenager getting caught with her boyfriend—the roles of parent and child completely reversed.  
_

_Thankfully her son's non-existent attention span, when it came to something outside of battling evil witches and saving a cursed town, was something she could always count on and watching as his eyes lit up suddenly, she breathed a bit easier, knowing she was in the clear, something else obviously consuming his over-active mind.  
_

"_How's the Jolly Roger?" The slightly wistful tone in Henry's voice couldn't be missed; his blatant love for the pirate ship no secret._

"_Better than ever." Hook told him, amusement flashing across his features as if he knew some joke the rest of them were unaware of, and pausing he considered Henry for a moment before flashing him a bright smile. "I can take you sailing anytime you'd like my boy. Merely say the word."_

_At the invitation Henry's eyes lit up even more, an excited gasp passing his lips as he turned towards her—she was almost positive that at that moment her expression was equally as surprised as her son's._

"Mom_?!"_

_She sighed, her eyes drifting to Hook, she shot him a long meaningful glare not appreciating being blindsided by the invitation, her gaze narrowing when he merely smiled innocently and shrugged carelessly. "Henry look haven't you had enough…"_

"_Come on you heard him, he said it was fine…how about this weekend? Saturday?" He glanced at Hook who merely raised a brow in silent agreement, the smile spreading across her son's face near blinding. "Please come on. Please."_

"_You're more than welcome to join us Swan…if you don't trust me to keep him safe."_

_Her eyes shot to his at the statement, her expression gentling as his curious and challenging gaze held hers. Of course she trusted him with Henry, he had proved to her time and time again in Neverland and after that he'd do anything and everything to keep him safe. And as the thought circled in her brain weighing on her significantly, she felt her throat suddenly close tightly, a prickling of panic dancing up her spine as she broke from his gaze fast and watched as Henry stared at him adoringly, his face brightening when Hook glanced away from her and winked at him with a quick grin._

"_Fine…fine. It's fine…Saturday it is."_

_At Henry's ecstatic shout followed by an amusing fist pump, Emma watched as the two began talking about the upcoming outing, Henry firing off question after question, and Hook answering them easily—the amusement in his tone only masked by gentle affection. After awhile, she somehow found herself trailing behind them, lagging slowly as they began to walk away from the school._

_Henry's high-pitched and excited voice answered by Hook's deep and lilting one, rang in her ears as something heavy and meaningful weighed in her heart…._

As another tear made its way down her cheek, Emma blinked her eyes rapidly, trying in vain to stop them, her efforts only succeeding in making them flow faster and harder. Wincing, she closed her eyes, attempting to gain control of her swirling emotions, desperate to shake away any lingering thoughts of Hook. She was so confused—scared and surprised by the intense range of emotions she felt for him. And she hated him for making her feel the way he did. The whispered revelations in her head, speaking things that were too scary for her to fully accept. Things about trust, promises, and unwavering commitment. Things about something she feared and tried to deny more than anything—something that had broken her and shattered her completely once before...

_Love._

And as the simple word circled in her brain, briefly she allowed herself to consider, had he still been around, what Graham would say, about her current situation, imagining his calm and roughly accented voice, his teasing and reassuring tone. A smile lit her face at the thought, until quite suddenly it began to waver and dip, giving way to a deep frown as a cruel voice in her head ripped her harshly from her musings. Almost violently it reminded her that her thoughts were nothing more than wishful thinking—there was no use imagining 'what if' scenarios…Hook and Graham would never exist together in the same world with her.

Graham was no longer here.

Gone.

Dead.

_And it was her fault._

"Oh God." she whispered as the thought brought on fresh memories of the night he had died. And as the vivid images continued to haunt her, she couldn't help but hate herself almost as much as she hated Regina for killing him, the blame for his fate weighing heavily on her shoulders. "I'm sorry….I'm so so sorry." her voice broke as another wave of grief hit her fast—her stomach dropping and her heart clenching. "I'm sorry…

And just as she was about to let go, to allow her despair to consume her entirely, a sound behind her had her whirling around in the stool. The sight of the door swinging open, followed by a dark figure strolling into the apartment taking her by surprise—her brain muddled and slow unable to fully process the intrusion.

"Bloody hell Swan, you call that a lock…what the devil is wrong with you, I could have been…" Hook's voice trailed off as he took in the sight of her, his eyes bright and piercing even in the dim light roamed over her face, his mouth opening before closing again as he stared at her hard. "You're crying."

She tried to laugh at both his sudden presence and his blunt statement, the sound gurgling up in her throat and getting stuck there, coming out closer to a hysterical moan—the soft noise both embarrassing and revealing.

"Why are you crying?"

His voice drew her attention back to him, and for a moment she felt hot blinding anger spike its way through her body, suddenly she was furious with him for turning her world upside-down—irrationally angry with him for being alive and well as the former sheriff of the town lay beneath the ground in a cold and lifeless grave.

"Leave…just…dammit Hook just go."

Her lips trembled with the words, her voice coming out weaker than she would have liked. And unable to face him any longer, knowing she was seconds from shattering in front of him, she turned around and gave him her back, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her to her self-induced misery.

He waited a moment or two before moving.

She hadn't expected her heart to drop when she heard the sounds of his footsteps retreating. She hadn't expected the burning tears that stung in her eyes before falling steadily down her cheeks when she heard the sound of the apartment door closing. She hadn't expected the swift and strong feeling of betrayal that ran through her fast as silence hung heavy in the empty loft

She hadn't expected to expect him to stay…

Letting out a silent sob, too tired to attempt to hold back her despair any longer, too upset that Hook had left her without question, that Graham was still dead and that she was once again alone; she cried silently, her entire body aching and humming with the too many emotions that were quickly consuming her. And she was so lost in her own tears that she barely registered when his shadow fell over her, his familiar scent slowly drifting up to her, the warmth of his presence gently making itself known.

"I said—"

"I heard what you said darling." his voice was quiet, his tone low and smooth.

And before she could respond, before she could demand he leave again, before she could allow herself to feel humiliated for letting him see her so vulnerable and broken, he bent down and in a movement so graceful and fluid it nearly took her breath away, lifted her into his arms, holding her against him bridal style.

"Hook…" her voice was small—she wanted to tell him to put her down, she needed to collect herself—the urge to demand he leave her alone on the tip of her tongue. But as she spoke his name her resolve left her, leaving in its place an ache in her heart and the overwhelming need to be held and comforted…

_By him. _

Unable to fight the impulse any longer, she collapsed against his chest, allowing her tears to flow freely as her muffled cries sounded throughout the loft, his whispered words attempting to drown out her self-pity and loathing, as he effortlessly carried her across the room, his arms strong and sturdy around her. Dimly she noted when he slowly began to walk up the stairs, his voice still speaking quietly in her ear, the vibrating sound lulling her into a daze as tears continued to stream down her face, and the gravity of the trying day continued to settle upon her.

She didn't even question how he knew exactly where to go, pushing open her bedroom door and walking into the room without pause. Slowly he moved towards her bed, his voice still soothing her, his words letting her know that he was there for her, he had her, he wasn't letting go. Gently, tenderly, he lowered her to the bed, his eyes narrowing slightly when she let out tiny whimper—somewhere in the back of her mind a voice angrily hissed at her, annoyed by her further show of weakness. Bending over he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, her head unconsciously tilting into his hand with the action, her body protesting the loss of his warmth since he had laid her down.

"Emma, love, why are you so distressed?"

She shook her head, feeling exposed, she'd had never broken down so fully in front of anyone before, her emotional barriers usually keeping such unlikely reactions at bay. She felt more than silly for reacting so strongly to the anniversary of Graham's death…she'd lost so many people throughout her life…why she was so affected by him failed her.

"It's nothing I—I lost a friend today…" she whispered lamely, her voice hoarse and raspy and she watched as his eyes narrowed in confusion, alarm crossing his features. "Not today exactly," she amended quickly, breaking away from his gaze, "just…he died a while ago…it's sort of the anniversary of his…his death…it's stupid…just forget it." Her words were stuttered and stilted, the uncertainty in them clear and obvious.

"Did you love him?"

His abrupt inquiry was spoken quietly, no accusation laced in his tone, it was merely a simple question—given her tears and distress one she supposed was rightfully asked.

"No." she murmured softly, and pausing she swallowed, her burning eyes raising to meet his as she smiled sadly. "but I think maybe I could have." And with the words another tear trailed its way down her cheek, the wetness branding into her, reminding her of what she had lost, the death and grief she had caused.

"Emma…"

"It's my fault he's dead. I—I challenged Regina, I came here and upset her delicate balance of things. She saw me as a threat…she killed him because…" she stopped, swallowing over her narrowed throat, the lump there refusing to go away. "_She killed him because of me._"

It was odd to say it out loud. To admit that she had been the direct cause of someone's death…someone she had cared for and respected. And as the words rang out in her room, she shuddered violently, a mixture of a whimper and moan falling from her lips.

"Darling stop." Hook's voice was near pleading, bordering on frantic—suddenly, he was sitting down on the bed, his body brushing against hers. Cupping the side of her face with his good hand, the pad of his thumb wiped away her tears as they continued to fall, his blue eyes gentle and concerned. "You're stronger than this Swan. You're just tired…anxious…you need rest." His mouth lifted into a small smile as he stared at her hard, his eyes searching hers seemingly looking for answers—he appeared desperate to make her pain go away. After a moment of long drawn out silence, he sighed, and leaning forward slowly, dusted his lips across hers in a soft and chaste kiss. "Sleep Emma."

She couldn't stand the thought of him leaving.

Panicked Emma raised her hand, and placing it against his chest, splaying her fingers out over his heart, she looked at him openly, honestly, allowing him to see whatever emotions might have been swirling in her watery gaze. And watching as surprise flashed across his features, something close to awe settling in his stare, she took a deep breath. And refusing to break eye contact, keeping her hand firmly against his chest while noting how the steady beating of his heart had picked up in pace, she gathered her wits, summoning her wavering strength.

"Stay with me."

"Emma…"

Lifting herself slightly she sat up a bit, so that her face was close to his, their somewhat heavy breathing mixing together, his close proximity enveloping her. And leaning even closer to him, so that his features were blurred and they were a mere breadth away, she allowed herself to speak what was in her heart, disregarding the panic in her head.

"I need you."

And with the softly spoken words she closed the space between them, kissing him tenderly, her lips moving hesitantly, luring his into a slow and gentle dance. Immediately he responded, wrapping an arm around her waist he shifted on the bed, drawing her closer as her tongue tentatively sought his, her heart pounding and her head buzzing as her body registered that for the first time in days, weeks, however long it had been since he had last held her…she felt right.

Complete.

"Emma," he pulled back from her, his good hand and his hooked one coming up to rest on her arms, keeping her at bay—his eyes glimmering, their blue depths swirling with his unsaid feelings. "You need rest. I don't want you to…" he trailed off, his voice slightly pained, the sound defeated and bordering on broken. And watching as he warred with himself, she felt a warmth spread throughout her…his internal battle obvious. He wanted her, that much was clear…but he didn't want to take advantage of her.

"Killian." she said his name freely, without thought, pressing her lips against his once before pulling back. "I need you." Pressing the palm of her hand harder against his chest, she locked eyes with him once again. "Please."

She had always thought herself above begging, too proud and stubborn to put herself out there. But with him things were different, with him those walls were slowly coming down, one shaky barrier by one shaky barrier. And at that moment, with the whispered memories of Graham's death still registering in the back of her head and Hook's body so close to hers, she couldn't bring herself to care, unwilling to stop the moment of vulnerability from happening.

She allowed him to see her exposed.

For a moment she allowed him past her walls to the lost girl hidden behind them.

Hearing her words, apparently seeing her need, her meaning—he nodded once, his jaw clenching, his expression surprisingly impassive. And catching her lips in another kiss, he pressed his body into hers, laying her back down onto the bed, shifting himself so that he was hovering over her.

Greedily she drank in his kiss, wrapping her arms tightly around him, needing to feel him pressed against her—the realization of how much she had craved him, wanted him, missed him both jarring her and exciting her. Whimpering as his stubble scratched her sensitive skin, his body seemingly unconsciously moving against hers, gently grinding into her with the promise of what was to come, she unhooked her arms from around him and began to undo the buttons of his shirt, needing the hot feel of his skin against hers. When her hands began to tremble, her throat suddenly closing in on her, her actions becoming faltered, she broke away from the kiss, muttering a violent curse. Leaning back, he raised a brow at the profanities spilling from her lips, picking up one of her hands, he kissed the knuckles gently, his eyes seeking hers.

"Sweetheart…we don't have to. If you're uncertain—"

"No." she cut him off fast, her tone firm and unyielding even as her feelings rushed tumultuously inside of her in a confusing rage. "I need you." she said the words again, refusing to back down, refusing to let him question her motives, her reasoning.

She needed him.

Regardless of what had happened earlier, her previous line of thinking, her prior thoughts, whether she was acting rash simply because she was emotional—that fact remained true, remained firm, remained unwavering.

_She needed him._

Looking down at her a moment, his mouth lifted slightly, his sea-blue eyes as gentle as a calm summer's day. "Always so defiant," he whispered, releasing her hand, he made quick work of his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor beside them. "Always so stubborn," lifting himself off the bed he unlaced his pants, pulling them down and stepping out of them, his eyes still bright and unblinking on hers. "Always so brave," lowering himself back onto the bed he placed his hand at the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up slowly, lifting it over her head with her delayed help. "Always so enchanting," staring down at her, his eyes roamed over her half-naked form, drinking in the sight of her as she lay before him. "Always so beautiful," moving his sure fingers to the loose sweatpants she wore, he stripped them away, leaving her completely exposed before him.

And as she lay naked beneath him he said nothing else, his eyes holding a possessiveness that both thrilled and alarmed her. Their blue depths tinged with something deep and claiming—silently they took hold of her.

_Mine._

The message was as clear as day. And at that moment she was—there was no denying it, no arguing it.

She was completely his.

Covering her body with his, he found her lips again, kissing her deeply, thoroughly, her arms immediately welcoming him, her legs falling open and accepting him gratefully. And as he hovered over her, his strong and scarred body, pressing ever so lightly into hers, she closed her eyes for a moment, his hot and throbbing length pressed against her—quite suddenly she was wet and aching.

She needed him inside of her.

She wanted him so much it terrified her.

"Tell me you want this Emma…tell me you need it."

She hesitated.

She didn't need _it._

No.

_Him._

"I need you." she breathed without restraint and arching her hips upwards, she pressed her hands into his back, pushing him into her, crying out when without a moment's hesitation he heeded her invitation and thrust himself fully inside of her, not stopping until he was completely sheathed within her—the intrusion causing her body to lift towards him, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist, her head tilting to the side as her eyes closed tightly, both her mind and body absorbing the overwhelming sensations.

"Look at me Emma." His voice drifted to her ears through the faint roaring that had begun to sound in them, and turning her head at the demand she met his steely blue stare, his eyes intense, his emotions clear and unguarded. "Don't look away."

Slowly he began to move, thrusting into her deeply, knowingly, taking her gently and thoroughly. Part of her protested, claiming she just needed a distraction from her depressing and angst-filled thoughts—the urge to tell him to go faster falling silent on her tongue as a larger part of her welcomed the change in pace, whispering that _this_ had always been what she had craved from him. Their previous encounters somewhat detached and frantically frenzied, their emotions denied.

"Killian," she whispered softly, her voice trembling as he shifted his angle and hit her in a spot that had sparks of light dancing in front of her open eyes. "Oh God." she murmured softly, her grip on him becoming tighter—his leisurely movements, sliding in and out of her slowly, close to tortuous.

And as her breathing became heavy and labored, the sound of their panting and her occasional moans sounding nearly explosive in the silent room—he didn't speak a word, his usual teasing encouragements and hot words replaced only by his shuddering breaths and broken grunts. Pushing even more deeply into her, his rippling muscles quivering over her body as he braced himself above her, his hips moved in synch with hers, the ease with which they came together not going unnoticed in her hazy brain.

They had always made a decent team.

They complemented each other.

They worked.

And she knew that somewhere, behind the still present memories of Graham, of Neal, of her parents, of everyone who had ever deserted her and had left her on her own, was a deep and burning nearly paralyzing fear. She was afraid to open herself up, _to care_—anyone she had ever needed had left her. Whether by death or choice, the outcome was always the same time and time again.

She always ended up alone.

"Emma." he said her name calmly, pushing into her fully and stopping when he could go no further, a gasping moan escaping her, ripping her from her untimely and depressing thoughts. "Don't darling."

"Wh—what?" she rasped, canting her hips upwards, vaguely registering his sharp intake of breath with the action.

But instead of smirking at her, instead of saying something witty or clever, he merely braced himself on his bad arm, the movement stirring him inside of her, the feel his throbbing length shifting ever so slightly and pressing against her walls dragging a low moan from her lips as once again bright spots shot before her eyes.

"This." he said, drawing her attention back to him, and with a sense of detached awe she felt him gently wipe away more tears she had unconsciously cried, the feeling of them trailing down her face having gone unnoticed. Releasing a shaky breath, she raised her eyes to his, the pained expression on his face nearly doing her in. "I can stop, " he said the words quietly, meaningfully, and her heart clenched while her throat tightened. She knew that it was true, she merely had to say the word and he would stop without question, without blame.

Bringing her hand to his, swallowing thickly, she placed her smaller one on top of his larger one and pressed it against her cheek, smiling tremulously when he brushed away another tear. "Don't stop…" pausing, she felt her lips continue to tremble as her body quivered beneath his, the too intense emotions inside of her battling for release. "Killian I—" she stopped again unsure what she wanted to say and how to say it, so instead she stared at him, hoping what he needed to see was reflected in her hazy gaze. "Don't stop."

His lips twitched at her words, his body tensing slightly as they continued to stare openly at each other. And after only waiting a heartbeat or two, he nodded, moving inside of her once again, the feeling immediately causing a slow pressure to build deep within her belly, spreading fast down her body, as his movements increased ever so slightly, his thrusts somehow becoming deeper, even as he kept that same slow and steady pace. As her toes began to curl, her vision wavering around the edges, her body tingling, as he hit her again and again in the spot that had her crying out his name and digging her nails into his back, she braced herself. Tensing for a moment, she opened her eyes, having been unaware she had closed them in the first place. And meeting his stormy gaze, she blew out a shaky breath as his thumb brushed away another hot tear that slowly streaked down her cheek, the gentle action doing her in—she shattered beneath him, calling out his name as she clenched him tightly, wave after wave of pleasure surrounding her and threatening to pull her under. Pulling him closer to her, she felt him begin to pump himself into her faster, drawing out her climax while seeking his own. And as he continued to take her, she sobbed out incoherent words, words that shouldn't be said in the heat of the moment, words that begged him to stay with her, to never leave her—her heart so full, her head so light, her body reeling.

And when she felt him tense, his body going rigid before thrusting into her once more, she trembled beneath him as he buried his face into her neck and came apart above her—whispering her name, his loyalties, his faith, his commitment…offering it all to her in his lilting and broken voice.

Later she knew she'd tell herself it was all said and done in the heat of the moment—she was emotionally distraught and he was attempting to make it better.

Later she would allow herself to once again deny what was really and truly between them.

Later she'd tell herself keeping him at arm's length was for the best.

Later.

Now, she let her legs fall open slowly, cradling him between them, her arms slid limply down his back, her breathing still heavy and labored began to slow, as her heart continued to pound fast against her chest. And as he drew in a deep breath, pulling out of her with a satisfied groan, words of regret caught in her throat when he shifted and rolled away from her, bringing her with him. Settling her at his side he drew her to him, so her head was resting on his shoulder and his arm was wrapped around her.

A heavy and telling silence slowly overtook the room—the sound deafening.

"I know what you're doing right now Emma." he spoke suddenly, his voice gruff and deep. "I know that you're trying to rationalize what just happened, what _keeps _happening." Lifting his head he turned it slightly, her own raising a bit to meet his gaze. "_Don't._"

"Killian…" she started, somewhat startled by the fact that he knew exactly what she had been doing.

"I am going to hold you. We are not going to speak, we are not going to do anything, I am merely going to hold you...because right now that's what you need…."

"My parents…" she muttered, feeling stupid and juvenile when he shot her a slightly exasperated and questioning look. "It's just that they'll be home in the morning and I'm sorry it's awkward and weird and—and we're not…we aren't…I don't know what we're doing and it's been a long day and I'm sorry I broke down in front of you and—and…"

"I'll be gone before the sun rises…we're not going to talk about it Emma." He cut off her ramblings, and bringing his hook up, he placed it under her chin, tilting her face towards him gently. "Don't deny this…not tonight."

Trapped in his unwavering gaze she shook her head slowly, "What do you want from me?" she whispered softly, unable to stop the words from spilling from her lips, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

And whether he had seen her uncertainty or he was just unwilling to respond, she wasn't sure but he didn't say a word. Instead he merely dusted his lips over hers before tucking her back against his side, holding her in a loose embrace as silence once again enveloped the room.

But while he had said nothing at her abrupt inquiry she had seen the quick and honest look that had flashed in his eyes.

A look that had told her exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed from her.

It was simple really, something she should have seen coming from the moment she had begged him to take her after returning from Neverland.

_Everything._

And whether it was the trying day—both her mental and physical exhaustion finally sneaking up on her, she found herself pressing closer against him, the need to deny whatever was slowly building between them gone for the night, the aching grief that had consumed her earlier replaced by a feeling of gentle and surprising contentment.

It was the first time in over ten years that she allowed herself to be held after being intimate with a man.

And with the shocking realization ringing in her head, her still racing mind began to calm as the heaviness in her heart lifted slowly. Tired, her eyes still burning from her previous crying jigs, she finally let herself begin to drift off into a much needed sleep, his strong arms wrapped protectively around her, promising to keep the nightmares at bay while holding her close—the warm and familiar embrace feeling like home.

**End.**

* * *

**This sucker got away from me. I feel like I may have veered a bit from "Mine" but I did try to give a bit of a nod to it somewhere in the middle.**

**And I do truly believe even with all these intense revelations it wouldn't be surprising to see Emma in a scenario like Mine where in the beginning she is denying Hook—I see her quite easily pulling back from him in the light of day after the storm has cleared.**

**Anywho, review?**


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